


Divinity

by haleyliz613



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 7th year, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lucius Malfoy - Freeform, Self-Harm, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 56,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleyliz613/pseuds/haleyliz613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life after the war was not good to Hermione, and upon her return to finish her seventh year, the ministry enacts a marriage law designed to repopulate the wizarding world. Hermione finds herself in quite a bind. How in the hell was she supposed to keep her secrets from Severus Snape of all people?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> All recognizable characters and things and stuff belong to JKR.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECONSTRUCTION IS COMPLETE! NEW CHAPTERS SOON!

_Dad, what are you doing?!" she screamed in terror as her father pounded on her door forcefully. Her heart beat furiously in her chest as she cowered on the opposite side of the door from the crazed man. Slunk way down at the foot of her bed, she looked around her room helplessly, clutching the front of her shirt frantically while trying to think of what to do. Her brown eyes darted all around the room, praying for any kind of savior. Her eyes landed on her wand briefly lying on her bedside table, but immediately tore themselves away as the banging became louder. She didn't understand what was happening. She didn't understand why her father was behaving that way. It took everything in her power not to let out a helpless sob. She trembled as the loud banging continued._

_"What do you want?!"_

_"You listen to me!" his muffled roar came through the door as he stopped banging on it. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she crawled from behind the bed to look at the door. From the looks and sounds of it, the frame wasn't going to hold out much longer. "I am your father! You will listen to me and open this door! You're only making it worse on yourself!"_

_Tears streamed down her face and soaked the front of her shirt as she tried to form some kind of reasoning for her father's actions. She opened her mouth to try and reason with him, but no words could escape her lips. Realizing there was no talking him out of whatever rage he was in, she opted instead to quickly stumble across the room and crawl beneath her desk, taking sanctuary underneath it. When her father heard no replies from her, he resumed his attack on the door, now obviously intent on breaking it down. With each loud bash of his fist, she flinched in terror, not knowing what was to come if he successfully broke down the door._

_Something deep in her mind nagged at her, screamed at her that she could save herself. There was_ _something_ _that she could do to stop it. Yet, try as she might, she could only focus on the fearfulness coursing through her body. She could practically feel the man's rage, incinerating the energy around them. She was alone, and there was nothing she could do._

_Trying to gain control of her unrelenting shaking, she couldn't help but jerk wildly as the telltale_ _crack!_ _of the door frame giving out resonated through the room. Within seconds she felt a rough hand snatch her by the wrist and drag her from her hiding spot. When she screamed and resisted, he wrenched on her arm harder, pulling her shoulder out of place. As the pain coursed through her, she sobbed outwardly, loosening up her resistance just enough for him swing her around and slam her onto her vanity. Her injured shoulder collided with the large mirror, causing the glass to shatter and rain down upon her._

_She barely felt the little nicks and cuts as she turned to face him, and was absolutely terrified to see her father's harsh green eyes burning into her own. Not quite finished struggling, she kicked her legs out at him, hoping to land something debilitating. She had no such luck, however, as he grabbed her legs and forced her back on the vanity atop the broken shards of mirror. She cried out as the broken pieces sliced into her back as he applied pressure in holding her down. His gaze was sinister, and with only a snarl, he grabbed a handful of her skirt and yanked hard, pulling it away from her with obvious intent._

"No! Stop it, stop it!" 

Her resounding voice in the small room woke her from her nightmare. Sweat was beaded up on her forehead and running down her face. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her eyes wide and fearful. The cold dorm's air wafted over her perspired skin, causing it to rise as she shivered uncontrollably. A moment later she began to calm herself, realizing it was only a dream she had been terrified of. Just a dream. She wasn't near that man anymore. 

Nonetheless, she was still incredibly shaken and trembling, and unable to keep the tears at bay. She was still as fearful, no matter where she was. She sobbed her terrified sorrow into her pillow, panicking at the memories that haunted her. 

No one could her screams, but unlike her dream, she was glad of it. No one could hear her cries and knew nothing of what went on in her mind. It was the only good thing about Hermione having the solitude of the Head Girl's dormitory. 

No one was there to hear her scream. 


	2. The News

Hermione was one of the first few students to arrive in the Great Hall the next morning, the time being well before most of the castle was awake. After her nightmare had awoken her at a little after midnight, she once again endured the remainder of the night in frustrated unrest. Since the summer holiday, it had been a regular occurrence for her dreams and night terrors to keep her awake nightly. She could only average one or two hours of sleep per night, which had her glamoring the bags beneath her eyes every day. 

Sitting in her usual spot along the Griffindor table, she let out an exhausted sigh, blinking several times to help her focus. Glancing at the breakfast foods spread out before her, her stomach gave a heaving surge, immediately rejecting the idea of eating. That had also been a regular occurrence since the summer – not eating. She had tried as much as she could, but almost everything she ate came back up. Nothing smelled appetizing to her anymore, and anything she ate just tasted like sand, grainy and dry. Just to keep herself from falling out, Hermione had resorted to taking several supplements to make up for her lack of intake. However, the supplements only went so far, and the negative effects had caused her to lose a substantial amount of weight. The most she could do was layer up her clothing to try and avoid suspicion. 

Having decided against trying to eat, Hermione pulled out her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells: Year 7_ to pass the time as she waited for others to arrive. She had been sitting there for nearly an hour studying Bubble-Head charms before others began showing up. Ginny popped in first, looking thoroughly chipper for such an early hour. 

Having actually attended Hogwarts the year Lord Voldemort had tried to take over and not going into hiding like most, Ginny and other select students were given the chance to take their end of year exams late and still have the opportunity to progress to the next year. Ginny had done well with her exams (despite the condition Hogwarts had been in during her sixth year), so she was moved up to her seventh and final year, sharing a couple of classes with Hermione. The school had closed down for the one year following the battle, the damage to the castle being quite extensive. That left Hermione at 19 years of age, and still trying to finish school. 

Harry and Ron, however, were different stories. 

After the final battle, the two boys decided against returning to finish their schooling, opting instead to work with the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, rounding up all the stray and leftover Death Eaters. Minister Kingsley had no qualms about letting the two become Aurors, though they still had to take classes at the Ministry to become certified. Lucky for Harry, he still had Grimmauld Place, which he and Ron had officially moved into. On the down side, it left Hermione with only Luna, Neville and Ginny as comrades in the school. Sure, most everyone was friendly to her, but mainly because of her involvement with the downfall of a certain dark wizard. 

"You already ate?" Ginny asked with an eyebrow slightly raised as she sat across from Hermione, noticing the absence of used dishes. She didn't even have a goblet of pumpkin juice. 

Hermione didn't remove her eyes from her book as she nodded, determined to have the charm memorized perfectly. Ginny had no idea of Hermione's issues, and she wasn't going to bother her friend with all of her problems, so it was simply easier to let her assume. 

Neville showed up next, sitting in his usual spot next to Hermione. Though Hermione didn't talk with them much anymore, her friends were kind of use to it anyway. It wasn't unusual for her to have her nose shoved in a book. By that point, however, Hermione had stopped reading, her mind drifting back to her nightmare. She found herself zoning out a lot more, and her memories and thoughts plagued her relentlessly, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself. 

It took the owl post arriving through the Great Hall to bring her back to Earth. A rather flustered looking plain brown tawny owl landed in front of her with her issue of _The Daily Prophet_. Depositing a knut it the creature's pouch, Hermione grabbed her paper before the owl took off, barely clearing Ginny's flaming ginger hair. 

Spreading the enchanted newspaper in front of her on the table, she began scanning it thoroughly. Since June, the editors had finally picked up on publishing real news, but none of it seemed very good. Sometimes a couple of Death Eaters were caught, but most of the time there were reports of suspected Death Eater rituals, complete with mangled sacrificed bodies. Several people speculated that the former followers of Lord Voldemort were trying to bring him back, but Hermione only scoffed at their naivety. After everything she had gone through two years before (and basically her entire Hogwarts career), she had no doubts that the evil that was Tom Riddle was finally diminished. 

Scanning the front of the paper lazily at first, it only took her two seconds to gasp at the headline she read. 

" **Newly Passed Marriage Law: Anyone Above 17 Years of Age.** " 

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed loudly. Ginny and Neville looked up, quite obviously surprised by her outburst. 

Hermione ignored their incredulous stares as she read on through the article. 

" **According to Code 1027, in the event that the magical population greatly depletes due to war, famine, infertility, etc… every person over the adult age of consent (17) must be wed to maintain the quota of childbirth.**

_For more information, see page 7-C."_

Hermione felt herself slightly numb at what she read. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem _reasonable._ She began to feel quite nauseated as she considered what all it could mean, and it didn't take long for her to start feeling like her head was spinning. Ginny and Neville gaped openly at Hermione's hysterically calm demeanor. 

After another solid minute of digesting what she had just read, Hermione snapped to and began desperately tearing through the rest of the paper, searching for 7-C. 

" **Code 1027: Marriage Law Defined.**

**According to Code 1027Q, under the Statute of Magical Population Control of 1662, in the event that the magical population depletes more than 50% within a ten year span due to war, famine, infertility, etc… every witch and wizard over the adult age of consent (17) must be wed to a person of opposite gender and blood status (as in muggleborns may not marry other muggleborns, half-bloods may not marry other half-bloods, and pure-bloods may not marry other pure-bloods) to maintain the quota of childbirth to ensure the future of the magical race. All eligible wizards must petition within 30 days for whom he wishes to marry. The petitioned-for witch has the remainder of the 30 days to choose which wizard she deems suitable. The ceremony must ensue within one (1) week of final decision.**

**Failure to comply to the law's demands shall result in either a sentence to Azkaban (circumstances may allow different imprisonment periods) or a Ministry elected mate. The Ministry will pull a mate from one of the witch's suitors, if one has been proposed, if the suitor is not already wed to another. A petition shall be placed concerning each witch's suitor, and each suitor must petition for a witch.**

**The hour Code 1027 comes in to effect, a letter shall arrive to each eligible and available wizard in request to begin petitioning for the witches they deem suitable to their likings.**

**Special exceptions to this law are as follows:**

**Widowers**

**Any persons above the verified age of 75**

**Infertile men or women**

**Currently married persons**

**Divorced persons with children under the age of 17**

**A child must be conceived within one year's time. Consummation of the wedding night is essential, as is repeated attempts at conception at least once per week until a child is borne or either party is deemed infertile by a certified Healer. Divorces may only be complied with if such happenings occur. For no reason whatsoever may any other couple be divorced. For further inquiries on the matter of Code 1027, send an owl to the Magical Inquiries Department located at the Ministry of Magic.** " 

Hermione sat there, dumbstruck and in shock. It wasn't possible. It just didn't seem possible. It all just couldn't be true. She had her entire life ahead of her, she was going to do great things in her time. 

Now it was gone. 

All gone. 

Her archaic government was basically selling her into sexual slavery. She was going to be shoved into a marriage with only-God-knows-who just for the sake of copulation and repopulating. She was going to be forced to give up her life because of all the Pure-Blooded Madness that had occurred. Pure bloods were known to have very few magical offspring, centuries of inbreeding lowering the birthrate so much that families were lucky if they got at least one child that wasn't a squib. Yes, the Weasleys were pure bloods and had several magical offspring, but from Hermione's observations of their family tree, their married relatives were paired with very distant cousins at best. 

_The letter_ . If the Code had already come in to effect, the boys in the Great Hall would have received their letters. Slowly, she looked up at her two friends, her eyes perpetually horrified. Both Ginny and Neville looked concernedly at her. A slight relief washed over her as she saw that Neville had no letter, but her joy was short-lived as dozens of owls came flocking in the Great Hall, assorting letters to all of the eligible bachelors in the school. A few letters were dropped at each House table and a single owl drifted to where the staff dined. Neville nervously took his letter warily as Hermione looked on, stuck in shock. The seventh year males (and some sixth year) had all received their instructions. She looked up at the staff table. The single owl that had approached the staff table had delivered a letter to Professor Snape, who looked positively furious. 

Hermione dazedly looked around at the seventh year girls. Some were crying and clinging to their friends, clutching the article tightly in their fists. Others were giddy with excitement, hugging and kissing their boyfriends, glad to already have someone to petition for them that they knew and loved. 

Once again, Hermione turned her gaze upon Neville. He had his letter, opened and read in his hands. His expression was of utmost horror, which slowly transformed into red embarrassment as his duties as a husband dawned on him. Ginny had grabbed the newspaper from Hermione and was reading the article with a ghastly pale facial expression. 

Hermione couldn't process what was happening and what it all meant. It was too much for her to think about. Trying not to let the tears escape her eyes, Hermione didn't say a word as she grabbed her bag and took off out of the Great Hall as quickly as she could. 

xxxxx 

The news of the marriage law spread like water from a hurricane as the entire school became frantic. Later information announced the law was to be put into effect for five years, elaborating that all of the magical population that would turn of age within that five year period was going to be applied to the law. That being so, more than half the school was affected, which resulted in all classes for the day being canceled due to emotional duress of the students. Madam Pomfrey was in over-drive with students seeking or being forced to consume calming draughts, as was Professor Snape having to brew the remedies. The girls were distraught at the thought of bearing children within a year's time, and the boys were angry at losing their "freedom". The marriage law that was meant to save the magical world was making Hogwarts crumble. 

In her dorm's personal bathroom, Hermione sat curled up at the bottom of her shower, letting scalding hot water cascade over her reddened form. She had been there for a couple of hours, dully thankful for the magic that allowed the hot water to keep on flowing. She had hoped it would help her to feel. Feel something. Feel _anything_. Since she had fled the Great Hall that morning, she couldn't bring herself out of her numbed stupor, so she opted for a mind-cleansing shower. However, she had become so deeply entrenched in her thoughts, she still couldn't feel the boiling water splashing her raw form. Becoming more and more frustrated over those two hours, Hermione finally shut off the water and wrapped her almost emaciated body with a towel, shuffling back into her room like a zombie. After drying herself and her hair, she pulled on her robe slowly and sat on the edge of her bed, not sure what to do. Different scenarios kept running through her mind, each depicting the different kinds of husbands she might be forced to be with. Would it be someone intelligent? Would it be a former Death Eater (you know, the ones who talked their way out of Azkaban)? Would it be a classmate? What if it wasn't? What if she had to leave school? The questions kept piling higher and higher and she wasn't seeing any way out. 

What if her new husband was a rapist? What if he was a murderer? 

That last thought seemed to jerk her out of her reverie with frantic fear. Without even really considering the repercussions, Hermione snatched open her bedside table and shuffled about the contents. Becoming frustrated at the lack of finding what she needed, she pulled the drawer out completely and dumped the innards on the floor. Slipping off the bed and kneeling beside the mess, she filed through the junk until her finger caught something sharp. She gasped, but knew she had found what she was looking for. 

Picking up the small piece of metal, she stared at it with wet eyes. Its sharp blade glinted with the dancing of the fire in the grate, and it mesmerized her with the malice of thousands of drops of blood shed by it. Scrambling up onto the bed, her finger now bleeding freely from the cut, she settled back onto the pillows and took back a sob. Her head was spinning. She rolled up the left sleeve of her robes, revealing numerous scars, some old, some new, criss-crossing all the way up the length of her thin forearm. She positioned the sleeve right behind the crook of her elbow where the joint held it in place. Taking the blade and pressing it to the tender skin in the center of her arm, she made a final thought before taking her relief. 

' _If this isn't the death of me, the law will be.'_

Holding the blade more firmly to her arm, she dragged it diagonally upwards a few inches, gasping at the sensation. Blood pooled immediately in the dip of her arm and she could feel nor think of anything except the pain in her arm that was causing the relief of her mind. Her worries were forgotten, yet she kept in mind all of those young women who were going to suffer ruthlessly in the near future. The blood dribbled down and onto her clothes, staining them. A little bit dripped onto the bed, staining the crushed green velvet cover. She repeated the same motion again about two inches higher, and again, higher than the last. She stopped at the fifth one and laid there, enjoying the dead-to-the-world feeling. 

xxxxx 

There was dried blood smeared all over herself and the bed by the time Hermione woke up the next morning. She knew she had almost lost control the night before, but she managed to sate herself. Though, she wasn't entirely sure she was very happy that she _didn't_ lose control. She grabbed her wand off the nightstand and conjured bandages that burst from the tip and wrapped themselves firmly around her gashes. She sat up further on the bed and pointed her wand at her mess. 

" _Scourgify!"_


	3. The Aftermath

After Hermione had cleaned herself up and picked up the mess she had made when she dumped her nightstand drawer, she realized that it was still dark outside. Checking the clock on her nightstand, she let out a very irritable sigh. It was only three in the morning. 

Lying back in bed, Hermione stared up at the stone ceiling of her dorm and let her mind drift to the marriage law. 

How was Hogwarts going to accommodate the newlyweds? How many poor girls were going to have to leave to be with their new husbands? Was _she_ going to get a husband that was still in school? Or was she going to end up with someone who wasn't a resident of Hogwarts? Would it be worth it to snap her wand and go into hiding as a muggle? 

No, she mentally shook her head. She could never give up the magical world. It was where she belonged. Besides, where else would she go? 

_Definitely not to my parents',_ she scoffed inwardly, a nervous pang shooting through her at the thought of her parents. 

The same thoughts and questions flitted through Hermione's mind until daylight, eating away at her and nearly driving her to tears once more. Finally giving up on lying there, she guessed it was late enough to go to breakfast, so she dragged her tired body out of her bed, crossing the room to her wardrobe to find an outfit. It was becoming tedious trying to find something to wear, mainly because nothing really fit her anymore. She had to charm her clothes to fit, and her robes hung from her in a most unflattering way. It took a couple of Bulking charms on her blouse and robes to make them seem like they fit decently. Hermione had started wearing her school robes almost all of the time. They hid the fact that she was wearing muggle jeans, which was against uniform code. She didn't honestly care, though. She wasn't comfortable wearing skirts anymore. 

Before her final assessment, Hermione cast a quick charm that made all of her vitals look normal in case someone checked her. She knew she needed help (for a few things), but determination at helping herself prevented her from seeking help. Besides, if she was checked, her real vitals would have her hospitalized, which Hermione could only wrinkle her nose at. Taking one last look in the mirror after her ritualistic grooming, Hermione nodded in approval of the glamor she had placed on her gaunt-looking face. The bags beneath her eyes were getting worse. 

There was no particular hurry, so Hermione took her time going to the Great Hall. By the time she had gotten there, Ginny was already seated and halfway through her breakfast. Hermione sat across from her, wrinkling her nose at the eggs. 

"So... Any idea what you're going to do?" Ginny started, taking a sip from her goblet of pumpkin juice. 

Hermione grabbed a piece of toast to nibble on, just managing to reign in a look of distaste. "No. I... There's nothing I really _can_ do," she replied with slight despair. 

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ginny said, giving her friend a mournful look. Trying not to sound chipper, she added, "But if it helps, Headmistress McGonagall managed to make a dent in the set rules." 

Hermione's eyes shot up from her half-eaten toast. "What? What did she do?" 

"Don't get too excited," Ginny said in a disappointing tone. "She just managed to convince the Ministry to allow students to put off the one-year conception rule until after they graduate. And any students that marry non-residents will have floo access to get back and forth to school. So they don't have to give up their education." 

The knot in Hermione's chest loosened as she heard this, but not enough for her to be even remotely happy. Yes, that made matters much easier, but that still didn't take away the fact the she was being forced to _get married_. "I suppose it's better than nothing," she said, her gloomy disposition still intact. "What are Harry and Ron's plans in all this?" 

Ginny blushed at the question. "Erm... Ron and Lavender have actually gotten engaged. And... Harryaskedmetomarryhim." 

"What?" Hermione asked. "I didn't catch that last part." 

Sighing in embarrassment, Ginny repeated a bit more slowly, "Harry... asked me to marry him." 

"Oh... Oh! Congratulations, Ginny." Hermione tried to sound as believably enthusiastic as possible, not wanting to drag her friend down in her slowly sinking boat. "You said yes, didn't you?" 

"Of course." 

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Hermione wanted to be happy for her, but the fact that Ron was already taken kind of kicked her when she was down. Yes, she knew that Ron and Lavender had already been an item, per say, but the thought of everyone else being miles ahead of her in this situation made her feel hopelessly left behind. Everyone already seemed to have a plan, whereas she still had no clue what she was to do. The gnawing ache of the unknown bore down on her more and more as she waited for it to be time to head to her Ancient Runes class. 

xxxxx 

Sitting at the Griffindor table at lunch, Hermione ignored the food before her and glanced at her schedule (even though she already knew it by heart), checking her times thoroughly once more to be certain. It was the middle of October, so she knew there was no way she could wrong about her timetable. Due to the seventh year students preparing for their N.E.W.T.s, the schedule for them had dwindled down to each class only taking place once per week. Due to that fact, however, the classes were stretched into three-hour-long lecture/lab hybrids. 

_**Monday:**_

_**9am – 12pm: Study Period**_

_**1pm – 4pm: Transfiguration**_

_**Tuesday:**_

_**9am – 12pm: Defense Against the Dark Arts**_

_**1pm – 4pm: Charms**_

_**Wednesday:**_

_**9am – 12pm: Ancient Runes**_

_**1pm – 4pm: Potions**_

_**Thursday:**_

_**9am – 12pm: Muggle Studies**_

_**1pm – 4pm: Arithmancy**_

_**Friday:**_

_**9am – 12pm: History of Magic**_

_**1pm – 4pm: Herbology**_

Hermione sighed at the headache she could already feel trying to mow her down. As unlikely as it was, she had been hoping she was mistaken, but it seemed as though she wasn't. Potions was her next class, and that meant braving the ever-so irate Potions' Master. Even though he was technically a highly regarded hero in the wizarding world, that did nothing for his attitude. She couldn't hold him completely at fault for his behavior, however. If she'd had her throat torn apart by a massive snake and left for dead, she wouldn't take kindly to the world, either. On top of that, he was prosecuted as a Death Eater once he was released from St. Mungo's and had to wait for Harry to do the right thing and force the public to believe his innocence. 

He was still a complete bastard, though. 

Bidding farewell to Neville (who had the courage to behead a giant snake but not to brave N.E.W.T. Potions), Ginny and Hermione made their way to the dungeons at a snails pace, trying to put off the inevitable. Hermione felt sluggish and exhausted, much as she had during her third year using the time turner. Her headache only became progressively worse, and by the time they reached the classroom, she had half a mind to turn around and escape to the solitude of her dorm. Knowing that wasn't much of an option for her, she shrugged as she walked through the threshold and made her way to the back of the classroom. Settling in her usual spot, she slumped into her chair to await her professor's arrival. 

The chatter amongst the few seventh years that actually made it to N.E.W.T. Potions was much more tenacious than usual, which Hermione attributed to the Marriage Law. It was understandably the hot topic of conversation, but she was growing weary of hearing about it considering her current predicament with the situation. She let Ginny chatter on about her plans for the small ceremony she had planned for her nuptials with Harry, not surprised that giddy redhead asked her to be her Maid of Honor. Hermione made her best attempt at graciously accepting, not wanting to put a damper on her friend's spirit. Before Ginny could start on the details of the gowns, Hermione noted that Professor Snape was a couple of minutes late, which was highly unusual for the malicious wizard. Perhaps she hadn't really made it to class, she thought. It could quite possibly have been a hallucination. 

Her head gave a particularly nasty throb, indicating that she was indeed where she was meant to be, and it was wishful thinking on her part. Only a moment later did her professor arrive with a slam of the door, startling the class into silence. The aura of murder rolled off the man in waves, sending a cumulative shudder throughout the classroom. He glared at the class for only a moment longer before jabbing his wand at the blackboard, magically writing instructions with furious script. He turned back to the class with intent. 

"Should I hear the slightest uttered word from ANY of you, you will be serving a weeks worth of detentions performing the most ghastly tasks I can imagine. And they will not be served with that great oaf, Hagrid. It will be with either myself or Filch, whichever you deem more atrocious. You have two hours and fifty-six minutes. Begin _now_." 

The class immediately set to work, retrieving the necessary ingredients from the cabinet without so much as an irritated sigh. It was obvious how much of a foul mood their professor was in, and he definitely was not bluffing about the detentions. Hermione braved the crowd of students at the cupboard, quickly grabbing what she needed and settling back at her work station. Her headache was slowly transforming into a migraine, which only spurred her further to finish as quickly as possible without damaging the potion. It was a rather simple potion by Hermione's standards. Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction was the potion Madam Pomfrey had given to Ron after his fifth year encounter with the attacking brains in the Department of Mysteries. It would only take the better part of two and a half hours to complete, which Hermione appreciated, needing something to occupy her mind. Her migraine was becoming more acute by the minute, and she relished not stressing her brain further with her predicament. 

Two and a half hours later, Hermione was bottling her potion and clearing away her work station, glad to be done with it but not so glad that she had lost her distraction. With longing thoughts of her headache potion stored in her dorm, she made her way to the front of the class and carefully deposited her clearly labeled vial in the center of Professor Snape's desk. She knew how his temperament could prompt him to "accidentally" knock the potion from its perch. When she sat back down, she packed away her belongings and returned unused ingredients to the storage cupboard. When she had meticulously cleaned her area, she settled back to await dismissal. 

_It wasn't long before Professor Snape noticed her lax demeanor, which spurred him to approach her in a menacing display of intent. Once he was before her, he quickly grasped her by the shoulders and shoved her back into her chair, pinning her._

" _What is wrong with you, stupid girl?!"_

Hermione's head snapped up from her folded arms, realizing she had fallen asleep and had been dreaming. Her waking coincided with Snape's dismissal of the class, so no one seemed to realize that she had dozed off as they bustled about, trying to leave as quickly as possible. Standing quickly before anyone noticed what she had done, she leaned down to grab her bag. It was a very dangerous thing to allow herself to be so careless in her most ruthless teacher's classroom, and she must have been the luckiest student alive to get away with it. 

Her still-waking mind was having a hard time catching up, and the corner of the work table rushing to meet her forehead took her completely off guard. After she heard the resounding _crack_ of impact,pain exploded forth on top of her migraine, causing her to whimper slightly before the edges of her vision began turning black. Ginny had already bolted out the door, and none of the other students seemed to realize she was having issues. She dropped to her knees in agony, the classroom fading from her sight fast as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. She heard Professor Snape yell at someone, and the last thing she saw before she completely faded out was him approaching her. 

xxxxx 

_Beep…_

_Beep…_

_Beep…_

'What's beeping?' 

_Beep…_

'Sounds like a heart monitor…' 

_Beep…_

'But, they don't have heart monitors at Hogwarts…' 

_Beep…_

Hermione's eye snapped open, expecting to see searing bright white lights, as they had in muggle hospitals. Instead, there was only the dark glow of torches surrounding her and hangings surrounding the bed she was in. She was in the Hospital Wing. 

_Beep…_

'But why?' 

_Beep…_

'And what the hell is that beeping noise?' 

Hermione groaned as she moved her head, looking to her right. There was a little trinket there that was emitting small puffs of smoke in time to the beeping. 

'A cardiosophem. Oh..' 

It was floating about six inches from her nightstand, and continued the steady beeping, the tiny puffs of smoke dissipating within seconds of each other. 

'What the hell am I doing here?' 

The beeping sped up very slightly as she began to wake up, contemplating her situation. She looked around a bit more, noticing the hangings around her bed were drawn closed, secluding her from the rest of the ward. She had one of the hospital wing's nightgowns on, and her regular clothing was nowhere to be seen. There was a dull ache at the forefront of her head, and suddenly what had happened came to her like a bolt of lightening. 

Class. Potions class. She had been gathering her things and she had.. Fainted? No. There was something else. Pain. Excruciating pain. Her head. She felt her forehead and winced as her fingers touched her bandage covered injury. 

"Ah.. Aahhh…!" Hermione clutched her head once again as the pain came back gradually but quickly. She hunched over, drawing her knees up to her head and grappling at her hair. The cardiosophem was beeping madly now, stuttering with her heartbeat and trying to keep up. She rocked back and forth slightly, trying to soothe herself even though she knew it hardly worked, but she had to try something as the pain overtook her again with full force. If it persisted, she knew she'd end up passing out again. That was the last thing she needed. 

"No worries, dear. I'm coming." 

Madam Pomfrey's voice drifted through the hangings very faintly, though Hermione wasn't sure if she was just using a tactful, calming voice, or if that was her hearing being impaired from the excruciating pain. 

She could hear the curtains being drawn away from her bed and Madam Pomfrey's languid voice (or was it just her imagination she was using a languid voice?) muttering incantations as she tipped a goblet of something bitter tasting down her throat. A few moments passed and the agony ebbed away into just a dull ache. The Mediwitch gently pushed Hermione back onto the hospital bed, and she was vaguely aware of the slow, steady beeping of the cardiosophem now. Her vision was slightly blurred, but she was resting easy now. 

"The headmistress will want to know you're awake. I'm going to owl her and I'll be right back with your blood replenishing potion." 

Blood replenishing potion? What on Earth… 

Hermione gasped as the door to the ward shut behind Madam Pomfrey. They knew. They knew what she had done to herself. This was going to raise a lot of speculation. Her reputation would be tarnished with such a sinful act being known. She would have to flee. No, she couldn't flee. Even more-so speculation would arise. She would have to lie. She would have to come up with a lie and make it a damn good one at that. 

She was distraught. Yes, she was distraught with the new law and she wasn't paying attention to… The Veritaserum she was working on for a personal project. She was about to add the Rhodiola Rosea to the potion, but in her tread to the workbench she lost track of what she was doing and lost her footing. She tripped and, in an attempt to remain upright, she tried grasping the table, but found it was too late as her arm scrubbed down the splintery side of the surface. Of course. McGonagall would simply _have_ to think she was telling the truth if she told him she was doing something against school rules, because, who would make that up to keep oneself out of trouble? She would take the rap for brewing a forbidden potion over what she really did in any case. 

A tear slid out of the corner of her eye. 


	4. The Patrolling

Hermione looked down at her arm. It was still in bandages, yet it stung as though the cuts were very fresh. In any case, it looked the same, which made Hermione think maybe Madam Pomfrey didn't even look at the injuries. Maybe she ignored them. 

' _But what about the Blood Replenishing Potion? She would have to have known something was up.'_

Hermione sat up, her head almost completely pain-free with the exception of a low throb at the forefront of her skull and a sharp itch where her head had become best friends with the table. Softly touching her fingertips to the bandaging around her head, she winced when she felt the warm blood that was soaking through the cotton. Well, that explained it. At least she hadn't passed out again. 

' _But how did I get here?'_

She stayed in her reverie for minutes on end, looking thoughtful, yet scared. Only when the Headmistress arrived did she come back to Earth. 

"Ah, Miss. Granger, so nice to see you awake." Her eyes glowed as they looked down upon her fondly. Her smile was genuine, yet there was something behind it that Hermione _knew_ was going to turn their conversation upside down. 

"Good evening, Headmistress." Hermione kept her eyes averted to look at the hill her toes made in the blankets. Her hair, no longer bushy after extensive treatment, slid down on either side of her head, creating a curtain to hide her face. 

"I must say, you had us worried. If Professor Snape hadn't brought you in as quickly as he did, your blood loss would have caused remarkable damage. Head injuries bleed much more easily, and the reopened wounds on your arm did not help. What, may I ask, caused those horrible gashes on your arm?" She looked inquisitively at Hermione, peeking above her rectangular spectacles at her. 

' _Snape? Professor Snape brought me in?'_

Hermione kept her composure, sure to hold a steady gaze. She couldn't betray herself with emotions. "I was so distraught yesterday over the Marriage Law that I wasn't concentrating on the Veritaserum I was brewing. I tripped as I started forward to put in the Rhodiola Rosea and my arm scraped my workbench when I tried to stop myself from falling. I didn't think my injury was bad enough to come to the infirmary with so I bandaged it. I guess I was wrong." 

"Yes, indeed. When you fell and hit your head in class earlier today, your arm had the same run-in with your desk. As you fell it tore open your bandages and wounds. You lost more blood than you realize. You should be more careful when brewing. Now, about this Veritaserum…" 

The Headmistress questioned her a bit more, content with the excuse she gave her for her wounded arm. She thought herself very lucky that her arm had received the same fate her lie told. It made the fib seem more believable, somehow. McGonagall instructed her to rid herself of the Veritaserum, and in return she would overlook her breaking the rules. She suggested she take a vial of Madam Pomfrey's Calming Drought with her to her Head Girl dorm so she could have it when she needed it should she become "distraught" over the Marriage Law issue again. The Headmistress informed Hermione that her blood loss and pain had caused her to pass out, but she was okay and free to go after Madam Pomfrey returned with her Blood Replenishing Potion and healed her arm and head. Hermione sighed with relief when she was released from the infirmary before seven o' clock. 

xxxxx 

Everything seemed to go more smoothly that night. Hermione managed to catch Ginny and Neville in the Great Hall and have a quick bite with them. She managed to eat a couple bites of her shepherd's pie, but that was all she could managed without feeling as though she were going to vomit. Bidding farewell to the two, Hermione went back to her dorm to prepare for her rounds. 

As soon as she walked into her dorm, she noticed Crookshanks leaning out the open window, focusing intently on owls flying past her window. Not thinking too much about the oddity, she dropped her belongings onto her bed and refreshed her charms and glamors she had in place. Nodding at herself once in the mirror, she made her way to the door and warded it behind her. 

xxxxx 

Wanting to be thorough, she started from the top of the Astronomy tower and made her way down to the dungeons. She had encountered several out-and-about students, to which she punished accordingly. (Meaning only a 5 point loss unless they were caught doing something _really_ dirty.) 

All in all, it was a standard patrol, which didn't keep her thoughts from straying. She continuously rolled over information in her mind, thinking about what ifs and what whens and what whos. 

It struck her as almost too kindly that Professor Snape had carried her to the infirmary. She was glad for her charms holding in place, keeping him from noticing anything wrong with her. Or Madam Pomfrey, for that matter. And especially Professor McGonagall. But that was the main reason she kept her charms and glamors on a time-based application rather than a concentration-based application. So incidents wouldn't occur. 

Not finding anything useful worth doing after making her way up from the dungeons, Hermione finally shrugged her shoulders and made her way back to her Head Girl dormitory. Greeting her there was a report she needed to write to the Head Boy (Ernie Macmillan) and a duplicate to be sent to the Headmistress to notify the two of her rather boring patrol. After including names and received punishments, she Banished the two notes to their respective recipients. 

Looking at the remainder of work on her desk, she realized that she was behind from the previous day's fiasco. (Well, behind for _her, w_ hich was one day short of three weeks ahead.) As she turned from her desk to retrieve a new ink well, she spotted her wand lying on the night stand beside her bed. The feeling welling up inside her could only be described as terror as she had a hazy vision from her dream swam in front of her. 

_The pounding on the door from her father._

_The stab of fear wrenching through her._

_Her wand, lying useless on her night stand._

_'But why is it useless?'_

Snapping from her reverie, she realized she had been holding her breath and her heart was pounding inside her chest. Shaking her head as though she could dispel the memories, she retrieved her ink well and returned to her essay that needed to be done for Charms in three weeks. 

Yes, her best bet for keeping herself sane was to bury herself in her schoolwork. 

xxxxx 

The next day, most of the students seemed more relaxed about the Law. Girls were becoming anxious as to find out who would be petitioning for them. Guys were making out lists of the girls whom they wouldn't mind marrying. It made Hermione sick to see everyone so happy, even if a few were friends. This was a cataclysm and everyone jumped right from despondent to enamored. They acted as though what the Ministry was doing was _okay_ and they had just simply _overreacted_. Well, she had news for them: not _everybody_ had somebody. Hermione knew there were several witches besides herself uninvolved with wizards for the time being, and she knew they, like she, were probably going to end up in some sham of a marriage to a wizard whom they didn't know or felt desire for. Hermione knew there would be no one to petition for her, and even if there was, she doubted he was going to be her knight in shining armor. 

Muggle Studies had been quite uneventful. The new teacher, Jeremy Wolverhampton, was a nice but kind of quiet half-blood teacher who had gone into hiding during Voldemort's power. He had graduated the same year as Charley Weasley, though he was a Hufflepuff to-boot. Professor McGonagall contacted him for the position after thoroughly scanning N.E.W.T. scores for candidates. It was much more difficult to find a replacement D.A.D.A. teacher, most people still fearing the cursed position. McGonagall finally managed to convince Bill Weasley to come in for the year until they could find a permanent replacement. Bill was happy to do so, simply because he was close enough to apparate home every night to see his family. 

Hermione was exhausted by the time she left Arithmancy, her brain feeling slightly like a fried egg. She was out of focus for most of the class, which she associated with her malnourishment. She made a mental note to try and eat more at dinner. 

Hermione remained in the library for the remainder of the evening. The daylight hours had ran slowly, and the night wouldn't be much better. She had been so worried about the Law that she had been neglecting most of her Head Girl duties. She had skipped two patrols before the previous night so she couldn't afford to miss the third or she would be stripped of her title and forced to remove herself back to the girls' dormitory. She didn't think she could bear to room again with those exuberant gossip whores. Their constant pleas to give her a makeover and to do her hair were enough to drive any teenage girl crazy. 

Hermione much preferred her solitude. 

Once upon a time, she had been very friendly, she had been generous and kind and outgoing, but her… What had happened... She just felt so uncomfortable being around others. There was no escaping her past now. She couldn't get close to anyone, for fear of them knowing her secret. She didn't think she could handle anyone knowing. 

The trek from the library took forever. Dropping her bags off at her dorm and beginning her patrol, she let her thoughts wander again. It had only been two days since the news of the marriage law had come to light, yet she felt slightly put-out that she hadn't received a single petition. It wouldn't have been so depressing if she didn't have to watch the other girls receive numerous petitions every morning at breakfast, their squeals of delight and wails of despair left her torn between rejected and thankful. No, there wasn't anyone in particular she wished to petition for her, but shouldn't _someone_ want her? It was a topic slathered in confusion, and no matter how focused she remained on looking for answers, she only came up empty handed and with more questions. 

Hermione snapped away from her thoughts as sloshing water resounded to her ears. She had been doing her rounds and found herself walking in front of Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor. Myrtle seemed to be having a conniption again. Water was flooding all through the corridor. The hem of Hermione's robes were soaked, as were her trainers, inside and out. It was dark, and the low torches made shadows jump and move. It began to creep her out, because this was the same setting that took place five years earlier, when Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, had been found petrified. The thought of those times still haunted her. As brave as she may have seemed, Hermione had still been the average twelve year old girl. 

She turned on her heel quickly, trying to get out of that corridor before her imagination went wild and caused her to panic. The slick floor squealed against her trainer as Hermione slipped in a puddle and began to journey face first into the wet, cold stone floor. Hermione prepared for the impact, losing all her ties on her glamors and charms she had placed on herself, knowing she was sure to break her nose, or worse, her neck. It seemed to take ages for her fall. 

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, jarring her just before her face made contact with the grimy, drenched stone. It was the only thing supporting her weight, as she realized she was practically hovering in the air. Her hair was a tousled mess about her face, arms flung out above her. Her legs were splayed and the front of her oversized robes were soaked, hanging away from her small frame and dipping into the water. The arm slowly lifted her to her feet, two hands now settling on her skinny waist as they steadied her. 

Hermione glanced up at her savior and squeaked in fright. Professor Severus Snape stood before her, his expression unreadable as she realized his hands were lingering on her small body. 

"Professor Snape, you startled me!" Hermione's voice was shaking as she took a quick step back out of his grasp. She wasn't sure, but she believed a small thought in the back of her mind told her she would have rather risked the broken neck than be near Severus Snape. The man merely smirked at her with contempt written across his features. 

"You ought to be more careful, Miss Granger. You know full well this area of the second floor should be proceeded into with caution. Myrtle has been celebrating the student body's… misery…" He smirked again, only this time glancing at her soaked robes. 

"I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean for you to go out of your way to help me…" Hermione's eyes were downcast, staring at her sopping trainers. 

"Yes, it was indeed an inconvenience, but I daresay I would rather be inconvenienced than suspended from my post for deliberately ignoring the Head Girl about to break her neck." His deep voice held discourtesy as his black eyes again glanced at her sodden, oversized robes. "Miss Granger, I do hope you realize your robes are far too large for you." 

Hermione glanced at her soaking, huge robes, then turned her eyes upon the Potion's master. She had lost twenty-six pounds since the summer, which had only been a couple months month before. Her robes had fit then. "Y-yes, sir. Mine were ruined and Madam Malkin provided me with these through owl until I could return to her to be fitted." 

"Certainly Madam Malkin had a record of your measurements, Miss Granger." Snape seemed genuinely suspicious, his years as a spy withstanding greatly. 

"I-I don't know, professor. Sh-she just provided me with these." Professor Snape had always made Hermione nervous, ever since her first year when he constantly reprimanded her for being "an insufferable know-it-all". Severus instantly saw through her statement for what it truly was: a lie. 

He had noticed the change in Hermione this year, how she kept to herself and only spoke in his class when spoken to. She had an uneasy air about her, as though she were going to crack any moment. He knew that feeling first-handed, having put up with playing the double spy for many years. Since she had become silent, however, Severus found the young witch easier to bear. He now called on her for answers in class since she had become submissive. It was pleasant to get a direct answer from the young witch instead of having to tell her to sit down and shove that waving hand where the sun doesn't shine. 

He began to pity the poor Gryffindor slightly, though, giving her the marks she deserved on her assignments and leaving her be. But it was her final year, and he had planned on doing so anyway to make up for all her years' hard work. He tried not to be too concerned with her, though. He was, after all, a Slytherin. 

"Here," he said, withdrawing his wand. He noticed her flinch away violently as though he were about to attack her, but he reassured her with a sneer. "It's just a drying charm, you silly little chit." 

He dried her robes magically with his wand. He then realized he was being _too_ nice and immediately changed his demeanor. "Now, I suggest you get back to your rounds before I give you a detention for neglecting your duties and enacting my aid because of your foolishness." With that, he was gone. 

Hermione stood there, a little dumb struck at what had just happened. 

A barking, snarling voice echoed from around the corner Professor Snape had disappeared. "To your rounds, Miss. Granger!" 

She squeaked once again and hurriedly made her way to the upper floors. 

xxxxx 

Severus Snape sat in his study after his patrol that night, swirling a small glass of Firewhiskey as he stared into the dying embers of the fire in the grate. He was in quite a predicament with the Marriage Law. He only had twenty-seven days left to petition for a witch. Less than that, if he counted the fact that he had to beat the other wizards to the good ones. But what witch on _Earth_ would deem _him_ the best suitor? Certainly, he was talented and intelligent and well off, but he was hardly a looker, and definitely not husband material. 

In any case, he didn't necessarily want a beautiful witch, but he certainly didn't want a troll, either. If he was going to be thrown into a marriage, he at least wanted someone somewhat intelligent. Conversations with witches that only wanted to talk about superficial things made Severus want to turn his wand upon himself. He wanted a challenging witch, a woman who could hold her own in a heated discussion with him. He wanted a witch that would contend his theories, or vice versa. 

Severus gulped down the remainder of his whiskey, the fiery substance burning his esophagus but pleasantly settling into his blood stream. He set his glass down gently and leaned back into his chair, folding his arms behind his head and looking upward. The past three days had been Hell with that bloody law. His potions stores was greatly depleted from nonstop brewing, as was his energy. His classes were worse than ever, and seemed to extend into forever. On top of all that, he was still forced to do his rounds at night to keep "courting" couples from "rendezvousing" in the alcoves and niches throughout the castle. The bleeding architects that built the castle hundreds of years before had no idea how badly Snape wished to curse their dead corpses for putting so many of the damned hiding places in the school. 

His rounds went as usual that night, catching at least five couples secluded in the alcoves on each floor. The prefects and Head Boy and Girl apparently weren't doing their jobs well. 

' _Well, certainly not,'_ Severus snorted to himself as the thought of running into the Head Girl on the second floor crossed his mind. They obviously just walk around aimlessly until it was time for them to return to their quarters. 

Hermione had been genuinely out of focus, he noted. Severus saw her slowly walking directly into Myrtle's waterworks without realizing it. When she seemed to pull herself out of her reverie, he could see a slight panicked look in her eyes before she slipped. Severus had made it just in time, his arms wrapping around her rather petite waist and ultimately saving her. 

Severus knew he felt something odd when he caught the witch, but blamed it as something in her robes. Then as she apologized, he noticed how her soaked clothes seemed to almost fall off of her. He did not believe her explanation for it not even a second, because he then knew what he had felt when he caught her that was so odd. 

Her ribs. 


	5. The Letter

Two weeks passed by after the marriage law had been enacted, and Hermione sank into a deeper depression as each day crept past. No one had petitioned for her yet. She honestly stopped believing that anyone would petition for her, period. Hogwarts obviously had an odd number of students, because it seemed like all of the sixth and seventh years (and older fifth years who did poorly on their exams) were already petitioned for and married off. As Ginny had said, minor changes were made to the Law over the course of the fortnight that it had been in effect for, mainly due to Headmistress McGonagall storming the Ministry of Magic and demanding that they exempt students from the one-year conception rule. Hogwarts' parents and the Board of Education all backed her up, and the Ministry was forced to allow students to complete school before reproducing. Consummation of the marriage was still a requirement, though, as it seals the magical marriage contract. The changes cheered Hermione up only in the slightest. At least she would be allowed until AFTER graduation to get knocked up by her faceless husband-to-be. 

_Seven weddings_ . Hermione had attended SEVEN weddings! Two of which she was actually a bridesmaid. Harry and Ginny tied the knot (Maid of Honor), Neville and Luna (bridesmaid), as well as Ron and Lavender. Thankfully, Hermione and Lavender never got along well enough for Lavender to agree to Ron's wishes that Hermione be a bridesmaid, and Hermione was perfectly fine with it. In addition to her best friends' weddings, she also had to attend the nuptials where Parvati married Seamus, Padma with some Ravenclaw boy whom Hermione didn't know, Hagrid and Madame Maxime, and George and some muggleborn girl he had met through a business convention (much to Mr. Weasley's delight). 

It was becoming ridiculous. There wasn't a single single person amongst Gryffindor's seventh years. The seventh years' dorms were transformed into individual rooms for the couples, as per the stipulations of the Ministry when they agreed to McGonagall's conditions. Hermione already had her own room, but she supposed that would change in the coming next two weeks when SOMEONE would be forced to marry her. But what if it wasn't a student? What if it was someone who did not attend Hogwarts? Would she still be forced to live with them and have to commute? What if he didn't allow her to return to school? What if he was controlling and manipulative? All of these things rushing through Hermione's mind made her head spin, and she needed to calm down before she was forced to use Madame Pomfrey's calming drought. 

Hermione sat on the cold stone floor of her shower, letting the burning hot water wash over her back in her curled up form. Hermione could not stop observing the several faint lines adorning the skin of her arms, as well as the more fresh cuts that she had allowed to happen over the fortnight. She left her healing arm extended into the scalding water, letting the flesh burn. It was Friday night, and normally she would have had her nose ten feet deep in her classwork, having no Ron and Harry to pester her. As much as she missed attending school with the two, she was slightly grateful they weren't there to disturb her final year before N.E.W.T.s. Tonight, however, she was feeling quite restless, and was almost sick of seeing her schoolbooks. That thought concerned her a bit, knowing that wasn't her usual way of thinking, but she only shrugged at her weird attitude and shut off the water. Stepping from the shower, she wrapped her towel around her and approached the mirror, inwardly cringing at the reflection she knew she was going to be met with. It was almost sickening, if she were honest with herself. 

Her bones were protruding from her reddened skin slightly. Her elbows were sharp points, as well as her hip bones and cheek bones. Her eyes were sunken in slightly, dark from the lack of sleep. Her legs almost seemed too frail to carry her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she removed her towel from around her and peeked one eye open at the reflection. 

She could count every rib. 

Trying her hardest to keep from wailing in despair, she wrapped the towel tightly around herself once more. The sight of herself almost made her physically ill. It didn't do much for her self-esteem, but it did help drive her to try and eat more. Even if food tasted like sand, she knew she would have to deal with it or wither away into a corpse. Walking into her room, she dried and dressed herself, thinking about going for a patrol as an excuse for a leisurely walk. Her school work would not suffer her one night of procrastination. 

xxxxx 

Hermione's trainers hit the cool, wet grass of Hogwarts grounds, right outside the main entrance. A slight, cold drizzle was falling, and she was only wearing her now baggy and very torn jeans and a much too large t-shirt under her robes, not even bothered to tie her robes properly. The cold, misting rain soaked through her robes and shirt slowly, easing the pain in her raw and blistered back from her very hot shower. She trudged around the lake at a leisurely pace, stopping at the edge of the sinister black water to gaze every now and again. 

It looked deep and uninviting, and she knew it must be unbearably cold. When she made a full lap around it, she stopped once again at the water, her mind wandering and wondering. Looking around to be sure no one was in the vicinity, she pulled off her trainers at the water's edge and removed her robes as well. Stepping closer to the bank, she tested the water childishly with her big toe, shivering slightly at the freezing temperature. Unsure why she felt compelled to do so, she plunged her whole foot in, following it with her other. The bottom of the water was slimy and frigid, the sludge squishing unpleasantly in-between her toes. She timidly took a stride forward, and another, and another, until she was up to her jean-clad thighs in the almost unbearably cold water. She could no longer feel her feet, and she wondered, if she stayed in long enough, could she not feel anything at all? She stood there contemplating it for a few minutes before shaking her head sadly and splashing back out of the water. 

_'_ _Not today...'_

She pulled her shoes and robes back on, her thoughts becoming more confused and jumbled the more she thought about what she had been trying to accomplish. Was she really that desperate for a way out? That she would consider drowning herself? She wasn't even sure why she had went around the lake at all. 

Once she was fully dressed once again, she slowly started making another round around the lake, soaked head to toe from the drizzling rain and the lake's water. Her thoughts wandered around as aimlessly as her, and by the time she made her way back to the school, it was already half-past ten. Curfew was ten, but Hermione's status allowed her a midnight curfew. She didn't even bother using a drying charm on herself. 

The tread up to the Astronomy tower was long and wet, her trainers and soaked clothes squelching as she walked. No one really ventured to the Astronomy tower since Dumbledore's death. She guessed they saw it as bad luck or something, even though if that were the case, no one would ever go anywhere. It was just a kind of respect to Dumbledore, that people stayed away. The use-to-be trio thought otherwise. The tower was a monumental place for them, very calming and comforting in some odd way. She came across no one the entire way and didn't stop for any breaks, so by the time she got there, she was out of breath and her vision was blurry. 

Sitting down at the edge of the tower, she hung her legs over the edge, allowing water to drip from her shoes and make the long way down to the grounds. She laid down on her back and stared up into the sky, watching those magnificent stars sparkle. A few were twinkling slightly, and every now and then a shooting star would make an appearance. Every time one did, she would make the same wish, over and over. 

_I wish everything would be alright... I wish everything would be alright... I wish everything would be alright..._

Wishing on shooting stars was a pretty ridiculous concept, but she was down to the bare minimum options so she would take anything at that point. The cold drizzling air wafted through the tower, but she paid no mind since she felt fairly warm. The silence was deafening, but also welcome at the same time. She volleyed between wishing she had something to play music to break the silence and appreciating the silence for what it was. Her mind felt almost fried the more she delved into her thoughts. 

xxxxx 

She didn't mean to lose track of time and fall asleep. However, a sharp jab in her side told her she did, which brought her to a sitting position, screaming and shivering out of her nightmare. Her father had been attacking her again, only this time something was slightly different. She couldn't remember what had been different though, she just knew that it had been. She began shaking her head violently and rubbing her eyes before she paused. Someone was towering above her, and it was obviously the same person who had awakened her. Hermione shakily raised her gaze up to see Professor Snape standing there, glaring down at her. Though, he didn't look livid. He looked to be more annoyed than anything else. 

"Professor! I – I'm terribly sorry! I didn't realize I had – I mean, I didn't mean to fall asleep! I just – I -" Professor Snape cut her off. 

"Do you realize that it is two in the morning? And that I have every right to give you detention for every Friday night for the rest of the school year, Miss Granger? Or are you a Mrs. now?" His mouth curved up into a smirk. 

"Uh – I – Uh, no sir, I didn't realize it was so late. And, no, sir. I'm not a Mrs. I, er, DO understand you can give me detentions for every Friday for the remainder of the year." Hermione stammered to the Professor until she came to the last part, where bitterness overtook her, so she muttered very quietly, "Not like it would _matter..._ " 

" _What_ was that last part, Miss Granger?" Snape growled down at her, the anger shining through his irritation now. 

"I – Uh... I said it would, uh, it wouldn't matter, sir. If you gave... me... detentions?" Hermione blushed furiously at being caught and lowered her gaze to the torn knee in her jeans. Snape remained silent, which made her possibly even more nervous. Rising to her feet and unable to suppress her shivers, she brushed herself off and tried to fasten her robes more appropriately. She was beyond thankful for her charms staying in place. 

It was really cold out now, and she could see her breath misting in front of her. Her now damp clothes clung to her, and she was trembling uncontrollably from the cold. When she was on her feet, her head started spinning and she had to grab the wall to steady herself. She looked at Snape again, and he was still looking at her. He wasn't glaring anymore, but looking at her as if he were... trying to figure her out. They stood there looking at each other a moment longer before Snape finally put his glare back in place. 

"Detention, tomorrow evening at nine in the dungeons, Miss Granger. If you think you can get away with being out at all hours of the night because you're Head Girl, you are sorely mistaken. Now head straight to your dorm and if I catch you out this late again I will make sure you are more severely punished, if not expelled." With a whisk of his robes, Professor Snape was gone. 

xxxxx 

Hermione woke late Saturday morning, silently thankful that her dreams had not returned. She was feeling hunger pains and felt light-headed, so she she walked into her bathroom and turned the hot water on. She was still in the same baggy clothes from the night before, and her dream had made her feel if possible even more dirty. The harsh orange torchlight of her bathroom irritated her, so she whisked her wand at the torches, turning them into a low blue glow instead. That was much better. 

She felt unbearably warm, probably overheated from the shower the night before, so she turned the water on cold and stayed under it for almost an hour until she finally shut it off. She felt unusual, a little foggy. She wasn't particularly dreading her detention with Snape, but pretty much because it wasn't like she had anything else to. At least her mind would be preoccupied instead of her sitting in her dorm thinking about everything. If she continued to do that, then she would end up going insane. That is, if she hadn't _already_ gone insane. 

Dressing herself and reapplying her charms, Hermione slowly made her way to the Great Hall to try and shove some porridge or kippers down her throat. She still felt her self-loathing at how far she had fallen, but she was still determined to help herself. She had helped bring about the downfall of one of the greatest tyrants alive. She could take care of herself. 

She managed to proudly consume a full half-piece of kipper before she felt her stomach begin rejecting it. Staying as long as she could at the table and nodding politely to Ginny and Neville's gushing over their new spouses, Hermione couldn't help but feel more sick than before. The kipper was not agreeing with her, and drinking water wasn't helping push aside the feeling. Finally saying her farewells to the two newlyweds, she made a dash to her dorm to purge the offending fish. She had been so proud of herself only for it to be yanked from underneath her feet. Washing her mouth out and drinking a fair amount of water, she pushed her failure aside to lament for the next attempt. 

Supper came and went, and Hermione stayed in her room, reviewing her spells and playing with Crookshanks. She was bored, but there was no way she was going to subject herself to the torture of watching and listening to all of the married couples for a second time that day. It was more than she could bear. So she stayed put, on her bed. The sky was darkening outside of her window, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she'd head to the dungeons for her detention. 

She glanced at the her watch, which shined 8:30 at her. Hermione decided it would probably be best to go ahead and start heading down. Securing her charms and robes, she left her dorm and walked slowly down the stairs, becoming lost in her thoughts again. She pretty much stayed locked inside her own head, which she knew wasn't good for her. She knew it had to be preventing her from thinking as critically as she liked. 

She hadn't been paying much attention, but when she thought about it, she hadn't been receiving any owls. Not even her newspaper. She paid them regularly like she should, but she supposed that maybe her subscription was out and she needed to resubscribe. But, normally, she would have received one of her magazines or even _The Quibbler_ , which she had only subscribed to to humor Luna. 

_'_ _Feh, Luna...'_

Before she realized it, Hermione had made it to Snape's classroom in the dungeons. She wore her over-sized work robes tonight, knowing that the Professor probably had something really nasty for her to do. She looked at her watch. It was 8:59. Suppressing a sudden cough, she stood in place, staring intently at her watch, waiting for the number to change to 9:00. When it finally did, she raised a shaky hand and timidly knocked on the door. 

"Enter, Miss Granger." 

Hermione did as she was told, quickly shutting the door behind her. The torches in the room were a low glowing orange, which made it even harder to see considering there were no windows for the moonlight to shine through. All the desks and chairs were still where they should have been, which struck Hermione as odd, considering that if Snape had a nasty detention, he usually cleared the area of the furniture. 

"Miss Granger." 

Hermione's head snapped to where Snape was sitting behind his desk, his arms curtly folded on top of a very large stack of papers. 

"You will be grading papers for me tonight. I understand this is out of character for me to give such a, ah... _simple_ detention, but these past two weeks have pretty well kept my hands tied. But trust in my words when I say, _this_ will probably be the _only_ time that an occurrence such as this happens. They're only first year papers, so I would _hope_ you'll be able to handle it. Consider yourself lucky." 

Hermione stared with her mouth agape, unsure of how much she was unsettled by his statement. She apparently pondered it a little too much, because Professor Snape began to give her his patented scowl. Closing her mouth quickly, she grabbed the stack of papers he held out to her and rushed to a desk, avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the night. 

It was well-past midnight before Hermione completed grading all of those papers. Her hands were terribly cramped and her back was aching from being slumped over the desk. She fell into bed and drifted into a dreamless sleep. Exhaustion had gotten the better of her. 

xxxxx 

Snape, however, was still up. His large glass of Firewhiskey was already running low, and he knew he would need another. He had yet to find a decent woman to petition for, and was beginning to think that maybe it would be better if he just let the ministry assign him one. He'd never find The One. The One died a long time ago. With that thought, Snape drained the rest of his whiskey and poured another glass. He knew he would never be satisfied with anyone else, so why even try? Yes, he would let the Ministry choose for him. They had taken his life over anyways. 

Severus had completely renounced his title as Deatheater, Former Deatheater, or any other such accusation. A small third year whose name he couldn't remember had found him bloody and dying in the Shrieking Shack that fateful night. Severus could understand that anyone would have mistaken him for dead. That was pretty much the purpose of Nagini's venom. To paralyze and slow the heart rate down. It actually took about an hour for her venom to actually kill, unless she were to eat her prey. There was a third year and two second years that had wandered away from everyone else, wanting to get back to the castle and fight. When the third year found him, he cast a Patronus charm, a large gorilla, and sent it out. It baffled Severus that this third year knew that type of powerful magic. That is, until he found that he had been in Potter's little "D.A. Club" in his first year. Typical. A Potter groupie had found him. 

A Healer from St. Mungo's arrived on the scene almost fifteen minutes later, and Severus had been immediately transported to St. Mungo's for extensive treatment. 

Everything pretty much went from there. Severus spent two months in St. Mungo's before he was released then called upon as an apprehended murderer. He spent almost an entire month in Azkaban after that before Potter came forth and had him released. Everyone knew by that point that he had only been a spy for the Order, though that didn't stop people from still being bitter about his having to murder Dumbledore. The memory had been released for public viewing to clear himself of any charges that remained. 

Severus thought back to Hermione Granger's words the night before. She wasn't married yet. Severus thought all of the Seventh years were married off by that point. Had no one petitioned for her? He found it hard to believe that _no_ one wanted her. Yes, she had been annoying, but Severus felt his spy senses tingle and knew something was off. If she had not been petitioned for, then the Ministry would throw her in with someone. Unless it was a plot. As much as everyone wished not to believe it, there were still Former Deatheaters roaming the wizarding world, working behind closed doors, biding their time until they came up with a new plan. Severus knew they were stumped for the time being, since they didn't have the Dark Lord's orders to tell them what to do and where to go. 

Lucius Malfoy was still among them. How in the _Hell_ did he manage to keep out of Azkaban? Of course. He claimed he was Imperiused. It was true that he and his wife _were_ divorced, and Draco was living with his mother. After Lucius basically threw Draco away during the war, trying to save his own worthless hide, Narcissa demanded that Lucius stay out of their lives forever. It was quite possible that some Former Deatheathers were plotting something with this Marriage Law. But, no. Certainly not. What did they hope to gain? Severus knew he was going to have to brainstorm a bit on that theory. 

His thoughts still remained on the girl. Granger certainly seemed exhausted lately. When had risen from the floor of the Astronomy tower, she had almost lost her balance and looked very faint. And he noticed the way she reacted when he dug his boot into her side to wake her, sitting up suddenly and screaming. It obviously said she was plagued by nightmares. Severus certainly understood the night terror ordeal. He still suffered from them frequently. Only on nights that he knew he needed his rest did he ever venture into his stores of Dreamless Sleep drought. He _would_ take it every night, but the more frequently that potion was taken, the less it tended to work. In any case, if Severus went a night without his nightmares, they came back worse, with a vengeance, the next night. 

Something was definitely up with Miss Granger... 

xxxxx 

The next morning, Hermione rose particularly early for a Sunday, her wishes of sleeping in eluding her. She felt like absolute bollocks, finally believing she may have been developing an illness. She was no longer able to suppress her coughs, and she felt perpetually chilly, even with how warm her skin felt. Her studies were finished, and she was at least three weeks ahead in her class work, assuming that the syllabuses were correct. She had nothing else to do, so she remained in her bed to stare at the ceiling. She laid there for a while, trying to let sleep overtake her. She wasn't willing to venture another round of eating after her fiasco the day before, and she decided to try it again later that evening. 

Just as she was about to reclaim sleep, a tapping on her window caused her to scream and leap from the bed defensively. Thinking maybe it was an underclassman messing around on a broom on their day off, she snatched her wand from her nightstand and stomped over to the window, preparing to set someone's broom tail on fire. She cautiously peered through her curtain to find it was a beautiful tawny owl, carrying a letter. Her anger left her hurriedly as she threw open her curtains and quickly unlatched her window, letting the owl soar in. 

It swooped over her bed, dropping the letter and took off out of the window before she could find something to offer it for its services. Locking the window back and jerking the curtains closed, she ran over to her bed and scooped up the letter. The envelope itself was made of handsome parchment, and the writing on it was beautiful script of gold. Flipping the envelope over, Hermione nervously opened the letter, but not before noticing the very official looking seal on it. It looked to be some sort of family crest. She unfolded the letter with shaking hands: 

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger,_

_A petition has been placed by a potential suitor vying for you. Please see attached documents._

_Regards,_

_Charlotte Peels, Ministry of Magic: Marriage and Binding Office_

Hermione's heart surged into her throat, making it difficult to breath. Her hands were shaking furiously, and she almost couldn't pull out the second piece of parchment the first had mentioned. She spent nearly ten minutes working up the nerve to do it. 

After deliberating whether she could get away with just torching it and ignoring it, she finally managed to summon what was left of her Gryffindor courage and removed the second letter from the envelope. Opening it with tears in her eyes, she finally read: 

_I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, wish to formally and personally place a petition for your hand in marriage, Hermione Jean Granger. I am a changed man, and have always valued your intelligence. I wish to show you how much I have changed, and it would_ _honor_ _me to have you accept._

_With Love,_

_Lucius Malfoy._

… What? 


	6. The Solution

Hermione tore through the halls, her chest on fire as she ascended to the headmistress' office. Coming to a quick halt in front of the gargoyles, she slipped into a coughing fit as her lungs tried to catch up with her. Glaring at the gargoyles, she managed to huff out, “The Head Girl needs to see Headmistress McGonagall, immediately.” 

The gargoyles hesitated before moving aside, allowing her to run to the winding staircase and up the steps quickly. 

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione yelled in outrage as she burst into the Headmistress' office. Taking a moment to catch her breath before continuing, she choked and halted as she saw the Headmistress already in deep conversation with none other than Professor Snape. 

"My word, Miss Granger. What has you in such a snit?" Severus sneered, unable to control old habits. 

"Miss Granger, good heavens! What's wrong?" Professor McGonagall asked in a more panicked tone, shooting Severus a pointed glare. When her Head Girl had cause for this magnitude of an outburst, something was seriously wrong. 

Hermione completely ignored Snape, choosing to address the headmistress instead. "Lucius Malfoy is what! I haven't received a single owl in two weeks and suddenly I receive one in my dorm room during breakfast from that blonde snake-" 

"-That's unnecessary stereotyping-" Severus started. 

"-petitioning to freaking MARRY ME!" she finished, ignoring Severus once again. "There's got to be some huge mistake or misunderstanding. Isn't he already married? He already has an heir, what more could he possibly want?! He hates muggleborns-" 

"Miss Granger-" McGonagall tried but Hermione kept going. 

"-and he's already expressed an extreme dislike for me-" 

"Miss Granger-!" Cut off, once again. 

"-and he's an absolutely sick and twisted human being with a boner for inflicting pain-" 

"MISS GRANGER!" Severus finally yelled, using every ounce of control he had to not laugh at her surprisingly accurate portrayal of Lucius. Fortunately, she finally went silent after his outburst, which he quickly used to his advantage. "Good. Now shut up and listen. The headmistress and I have coincidentally been discussing your... predicament. When you expressed to me that you had yet to receive a petition, I took that as a red flag. 

Professor McGonagall continued from there, “A witch of your standing should have received several, if not dozens of petitions by now. The wizarding world, particularly Death Eaters, would love to have their hands on one of the three that brought the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Though _this_ proposal is news to us, it sadly was no less than we had suspected when Severus told me. I'm assuming you received this... petition... a few moments ago?" 

Hermione had lost her steam, and she slumped into the nearest chair, putting her head in her hands. "Yes. Not even twenty minutes ago." 

Severus looked at the Headmistress and asked, "Minerva, hand me the roster." 

McGonagall nodded and pulled the charmed roll of parchment from her desk, handing it to him. Severus unrolled it and studied the names of the of-age students, their spouses and their suitors. Sure enough, there Granger's name was next to a suitor by the name of Lucius Malfoy. 

Rolling up the scroll, he handed it back to the headmistress with a grim expression. "Minerva, this does not bode well. If I know Lucius – which, sadly, I do too well – he has tampered with Miss Granger's petitioning and is considerably tipping the odds in his favor. The man is probably smart enough to know that she would never willingly marry him, so there's a large chance that he's preventing others from petitioning for her, hoping the ministry will stick her with him. If no one else petitions for her, she'll have no choice but to marry her only suitor." 

Hermione felt fear strike through her at those words and barely managed to stifle her sob, but she still couldn't suppress the shudder that came with it. Her body was very feverish, and she felt like death. She wrapped her arms around chest in an attempt to ease the anxiety in her chest. Coughing roughly, she cleared her throat and and tried to keep her tone as even as possible. "I can't... I can't marry _him_... The man will... He'll torture me. He'll _kill_ me." 

"Severus, how do we get her out of this mess?" McGonagall asked timidly, not missing Hermione's sickly demeanor. 

"I believe I need time to think on this. We're treading on very dangerous ground where Lucius Malfoy is concerned," Severus said lowly, also eying Hermione's pale and clammy appearance. 

"But... Why _me_? What could that man possibly want with _me_?" she asked nervously, biting her lip. 

Severus' gaze locked with hers, taking in her terrified expression. 

"Miss Granger, there are far worse things than death, and I have no doubt in my mind that whatever his plan is, he has no intention of killing you." 

Those words chilled her to the bone, and she couldn't stop the trembling at the thought. 

xxxxx 

Every day that passed for the following week had found Hermione in a rock-bottom mood. She had yet to hear whether her professors had a solution for her or not, and she was positive she had developed a cold, which was growing worse by the day. She contemplated back and forth as to whether she should pay a visit to the infirmary, but always cast aside the thought when she considered the questions that would arise. Once in the hospital wing was enough for her for the year. 

Still, she managed to brew her own Pepper-Up potion to get her through her classes. The downside of the potion was the ineffectiveness it had on healing. It only masked the symptoms, not healed the imbiber. So between doses, she began feeling more and more like death. She tried not to be too irritated with her illness, however. For all she knew, she might end up having to marry Lucius, and it would be a blessing to die from natural causes first. 

It was a good thing that Hermione had gotten herself so far ahead in her schoolwork. As sick as she was, she wasn't able to do much outside of attending classes themselves. However, her nightmares still kept her awake, and her waking thoughts were plagued by Lucius Malfoy. She felt helpless no matter what she did. 

xxxxx 

Severus knew he didn't have much time to deliberate on Hermione's predicament, and, as it were, time was running out. There was only one more week left until the deadline and Severus still had no options at his disposal. No more petitions had gone through for her, and by that point, there was no one left anyways. It infuriated Severus that he was once again having to put himself out there to save a Gryffindor. He wouldn't have cared at all, but the Headmistress insisted on his help, and he knew that whatever Malfoy had planned, it was a much bigger scheme than him just wanting a sex slave. 

Sitting by his fireplace and sipping on a glass of firewhiskey, Severus stared at the wretched letter in his hand from the Ministry. He had been so preoccupied finding a way to save Granger that he had passed up any chance of _himself_ finding a suitable witch. With a grimace of disgust, he threw the offending warning letter into the fire. He was on his fourth glass of whiskey, and his thoughts became more depressing and desperate the more drunk he became. His life was still a mess after the war, and it didn't seemed to have much of a silver lining. As he swilled his drink around in its glass, his fireplace roared green and the headmistress' voice rang through his living quarters. 

"Severus, a word, if you please." 

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, not liking the upbeat tone of Minerva's voice. He was pretty sure as to what she was summoning him for, and anything making _her_ sound chipper couldn't be good. Gulping down the remainder of his glass and Vanishing it, he stepped through the flames in his fireplace and into McGonagall's office, immediately spying Dumbledore's twinkling portrait smiling mischievously behind the desk. 

Severus snapped at the portrait, "What are you smiling for, old man?" 

"Oh, nothing, Severus. Must you be so crude all the time?" Dumbledore asked with an innocent tone. 

Severus ignored him and turned his attention to McGonagall. Words slightly slurred, he ground out, "Minerva, I'm drunk. Get this over with." 

The headmistress wrinkled her nose in distaste from behind her desk, but ignored it. She could smell the copious amounts of alcohol on him, which was not something she favored. "I think we may have a solution to Miss Granger's predicament." 

Severus eyed her, not liking her unusually happy demeanor on the subject. She had pestered him all week and tried making suggestions, but it always fell through. 

“We? Who's 'we'?” he growled. 

“Myself and Albus,” she replied indignantly, eyeing him. “He believes you are correct in thinking there's something amiss with Lucius' proposal, and I believe we've come up with a solution.” 

" … Please tell me it involves putting her out of her misery." 

"Severus! Don't talk that way,” the headmistress reprimanded him, looking ready to smack him with her wand. “At any rate, no. However, this solution will not be well-liked by either you nor her, but I have discussed it at great length with Albus – " 

At Dumbledore's name, Severus shot the old man a look. It was just like the crazy old codger to meddle in his life affairs, even in death. 

" – and we believe that it is the safest, the most convenient and all-around best option that we could all live with." 

Snapping back to the conversation, he snipped, "Minerva, you're wasting my time with these theatrics. I will agree with whatever you say if that means I can go back to my quarters and smash the rest of my spirits. Just bloody tell me so I can be done with this." 

"Well, our biggest problem was the fact that petitions could not go through for Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall explained, enjoying making Severus wait for his answer and relishing chipping away at his patience. “The way we see around that would be for her to get married 'under-the-tracking-charm', in a manner of speaking. A wizarding marriage is binding, and not even the Ministry can break that bond unless the couple involved consents to it. If she were to get married without anyone knowing, there would be nothing they can do. Yes, the terms of the Marriage Law do remain intact, but this will help her avoid Malfoy deflecting her suitors." She happily smiled her most irritating smile, enjoying getting on her House rival's nerves. 

"Headmistress,” he sighed warily. “I hate to break it to you, but the flaw in your plan is that she still needs someone to _marry_." Severus couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice, and he dearly just wanted to hole himself back up and get completely knackered. 

"I'm getting to that," she snapped, giving him an unamused glare. "Anyways, the girl needs a husband who is strong and can protect her. Malfoy is a nasty piece of work, and I have no doubts that once he is beaten out, he will retaliate. She also needs a husband who is here in the school, because if she if forced to marry someone who does not attend here, she will be away from the protection of the school, which I will never stand for. The girl is absolutely brilliant – " 

"Minerva! Stop doting on your Gryffindor and get on with it!" 

McGonagall gave him a half-lidded glower and crossed her arms before continuing. "Albus and I believe that the perfect person for the job is you." 

If Severus didn't know any better, he could have sworn he was having a heart attack. 

xxxxx 

Hermione laid in bed in agony. Her illness had progressed to pneumonia, she was sure of it. All the week before, she had attended classes and drank a generous amount of Pepper-Up potion, but it seemed to be only a temporary fix and came back with a vengeance later. It was Friday night, and Hermione was so sick that she couldn't even find the energy to sit in the hot shower and let the steam help her. As she laid there, wondering how long it would take for the others to find her body, her fireplace burst into green flames and Professor McGonagall's voice rumbled through. 

"Miss Granger, please come see me. There is something very important we need to discuss." 

Hermione broke into a coughing fit and groaned. As sick as she was, the last thing she wanted to do was pay a visit to the headmistress, but her entire future's only hope rested in her Head of House's hands. Rolling out of bed, she fought another coughing fit and pulled on her robes, hiding her malnourished body and warming herself. Hoping she didn't become physically ill through the fireplace, she stepped into the green flames with bated breath. 

She swirled into McGonagall's room and stumbled onto the rug. Her equilibrium was shot, and she had to grab the mantle to keep from falling. She stood straight and brushed her robes out before looking up. Standing there was Professor McGonagall looking very concerned and in the corner was a completely livid Professor Snape, wearing a look of complete disdain and murder. 

Fighting a cough back, Hermione tried to put on as much of an uppity expression she could. "You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" 

"Dear girl, you look like death! Why aren't you in the hospital wing?" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. 

"It's just a cold," Hermione said quickly, trying to forcefully change the subject. "I'll be okay. What did you wish to discuss?" 

The Headmistress looked over the girl and frowned. "Are you sure..?" 

"Yes. I just need bed rest. Hurry this along and I can get back to just that." Just then, Hermione's body decided to betray her as she broke into an unexpected coughing fit. Taking a moment to regain her composure, McGonagall gave her a completely unconvinced look before grudgingly moving on. 

"It has been discussed at length between myself, Severus and Albus on how to keep you out of Malfoy's clutches. The options were much, much fewer than we could have imagined, and we believe there is only one other logical alternative available to you." McGonagall didn't seem _too_ depressed about it. 

"And...?" 

"Your only option that guarantees your safety and your education unhindered is to marry Professor Snape." 

Silence roared through the room as Hermione's mind reeled. Professor Snape? _Professor Snape_? Did she hear right? 

_'_ _Well, I'm done for,'_ she thought ruefully. _'_ _The fever has obviously damaged my hearing. I should be dying from it any day now.'_

"Miss. Granger?" 

"What?" 

"Did you hear me, child?" The headmistress was giving her a very strange look. 

"Oh... That...?" was all she managed to get out before her world turned black. 

xxxxx 

"Miss Granger, welcome back." 

Hermione shot up in a bed that wasn't her own and quickly looked around. Professor Snape was standing next to her bed, wearing an unnaturally neutral expression. Madam Pomfrey was flitting around her, tipping various vials down her throat and waving her wand, mumbling incantations. She realized she was in the hospital wing. She was starting to feel a little better with Madam Pomfrey's healing, but by the time she was done, she still felt like death, only a little more comfortable. 

Professor Snape looked pointedly at Madam Pomfrey when the mediwitch had finished, at which she addressed Hermione. "Professor Snape is going to explain everything. If you need anything, just let me know." With that said, she flitted away to her office. 

Hermione's stomach turned flips as she looked to Professor Snape. Though he didn't look murderous like before, he still didn't look very happy. "Trying to hide pneumonia, Miss Granger?" 

She looked down at the hill her toes made in the blankets, her hoarse voice replying meekly, "It's just a cold." 

"Do not lie to me!” he snapped at her, causing her to flinch back. “You know as well as I do that you have pneumonia. I knew it the moment you starting hacking your lungs up in the headmistress' office. Stupid girl, pneumonia can kill you! And you know there is no cure for the common cold, and the same goes for its evolution." He was back to angry as he strode to her bedside chair and took a seat, hunching forward with his hands clasped together. He was obviously trying to get a reign on his temper. “You had Poppy quite baffled, though. You have some kind of charm cloaking your vitals. She had to make due with what she knew.” 

It took her a moment to think of what to say. "I... Alright, fine. What of it? Sir, if you don't mind my pointing out, there were more than numerous times you did not seek Madame Pomfrey when you were injured during your service to Lord Voldem –" 

" – Do not utter that vile name in my presence," Snape growled quickly, his black eyes glinting dangerously. 

Hermione sighed and continued. "During your service to the _Dark Lord_." 

"That is none of your concern, Granger," Professor Snape quipped quickly, determined to not let out another outburst. His demeanor changed and his face hardened, steeling himself. "In any case, it is irrelevant. There are a few things you and I need to discuss." 

Hermione took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, a feeling of complete and total dread filling her every pore. "Al... Alright." 

The dark wizard sat up straighter in his chair but continued to look down at his hands, hiding his face behind his hair. "Minerva and the that blasted old man in the portrait discussed it at length, and they concluded that there is probably no way for any other suitor to petition for you, which I sadly agree. The only way around it would be to elope under the radar, per say. No petitions, no formalities. Once you are wed, there is nothing the Ministry can do to break those bonds without the couple in questions' say-so. You have very limited time to make your decision on the matter. As much as I absolutely hate the idea of going through this bullshit and being chained to a Gryffindor know-it-all, I am forced to say that there really is no other option for you asides from marrying Lucius Malfoy. He's been divorced from Narcissa for some time now, and his heir is over the legal age so he's subjct to the law as well. I'm definitely not thrilled with this plan, but you're down to the lesser of two evils. Me or him. I am the only eligible male in this school, and probably in this country, that is skilled enough to protect you from him. The man is a master dueler, and fights dirty. If you decide to marry me, he will be livid, and he will retaliate in any way he can. I have known the man for far more years than I care to, and I can say with confidence that I am stronger than him and I can protect you from him. If you decide to marry him... Well, like I said, he's going to keep you alive, and it will not be pleasant." 

Before Hermione could contemplate too much on his words, he continued. 

"It'll be a marriage of convenience. I don't have to like you. You don't have to like me. We will be forced to share the same quarters, though I _will_ have a second bedroom installed." At the next sentence, Severus cleared his throat. "We will still have to perform the consummation, though I believe that with the non-conception rule Minerva set in place, we will not have to perform the weekly _duties_. At least... until you graduate." 

Hermione's face burned hot as she thought about what he was saying. He continued on. "You will be allowed to finish your education and I will not hinder you in any way in life. If you wish to go to University, by all means, go ahead. We'll set up an apparition point for you. If you go for a career, same thing. You will continue to do your own thing, and I, mine. We will basically only inhabit the same living area. I understand you'd like months or even years to think about this but there really isn't the time for it. The headmistress and I need an answer today so we can get everything set up. It needs to be done quickly and silently before anyone else catches wind." 

Hermione felt light-headed trying to take in everything. The man had pretty much laid everything out for her, and it left her nauseated but understanding. There was only one question he hadn't answered yet. 

"But... you hate me. Why would you do any of this for me?" Hermione coughed lightly and clutched her aching chest. 

"Because, Miss Granger,” he said wearily, “you forget that I too am subject to this ridiculous law.” 


	7. The Decision

"B-but... You..." Hermione stumbled over her words, trying to figure out what to say. She had forgotten that he was also bound under the marriage law. He fell within all of the specifications, and she felt quite ashamed that she hadn't thought of him being pooled in with everyone else that qualified. 

Wrenching guilt flooded through her. He had been spending his time trying to devise a way for her to get out from under Lucius' thumb, even though he had his own problems within all the marriage law mess. A bout of coughing overtook her, and Snape waited patiently for her to finish. Once she had control again, he continued with a sour demeanor. 

"Listen, Granger. I do not want any part of this lunacy. I have wanted out of this hellhole since before you were born. As I laid there dying in the Shrieking Shack, I thought I was going to finally get my wish. Up until I was released from Azkaban, I harbored a murderous longing to throttle that third year brat who felt it necessary to intervene in my death. When I was released from imprisonment, I thought I could finally get some peace in my life and be free of the shackles the old man and the Dark Lord had placed on me. Apparently fate, the heartless _bitch_ , decided to prove me wrong on a whole different level." He scowled heavily at the floor, loathing having to explain himself to the little chit. 

"Sh... shouldn't the Ministry be able to give you some type of... I don't know... reprieve?" Hermione asked, subconsciously rubbing the back of her right hand in a nervous habit. "I wouldn't think they'd want you to... Um..." 

"Reproduce?" Snape offered with a growl. 

"No... I just thought... Teachers – " 

"As much as I'd love for that reprieve to exist," he cut in, "it does not. My age is the only thing that sets me apart from the other teachers in this institution. The old buggers are all exempt, and there was nothing in the law that stated anything about educators. Trust me, I searched thoroughly." He said the last part with particular disdain, already tiring of the conversation. 

Hermione looked down at her hands, her mind foggy. She could feel her fever spike, and her vision was a little hazy. She felt terrible. The poor man had been through hell and back, only to be shoved over the edge once again before he even founding his footing. There she was, whining about her life, when the man before her literally _gave_ his to ensure peace for wizardkind. Her mortification at her own selfishness only rivaled her desperation to understand why he would sacrifice himself, _again_. 

"Do you have any more questions you wish to ask before you make your decision?" He sounded irritated, which she couldn't hold against him in the least. 

_Yes_ , she thought. _A million and one of them._

"I still don't understand why you are doing this," she said as she placed her head in her hands. "I really don't have a choice, but you still kind of do, even if it leaves me with no choice." 

"Stupid girl, what did I just explain?" he snapped at her. "I am part of this train wreck, too. I am so much of a social pariah that none of the few petitions I _did_ send were even acknowledged! I'm down to the end of my rope. It is either you or a Ministry selected mate that will probably commit suicide for marrying a murderer!" 

Hermione gasped, looking up at him in shock. "Sir! You are _not_ a murderer! And people don't think of you that way. Not all of them! You did what you – " 

"Do not speak of what you know nothing of, wench!" Snape snarled. 

"I... I'm sorry," she said, trying to hold her stare steady on his deep, black eyes. "I'm not going to try and pretend to know you, Professor, because I don't. But I do know what you've done, and the great lengths you went through to rid us of Vol– uh, the Dark Lord. You're not all bad. And I'm not completely rejecting this idea. It sounds very logical, and it's the best plan to cross my path since this whole thing started. I don't think I could hold my own against Malfoy, and I like the idea of staying here at the school, which would be an impossibility with anyone else... There are no seventh or sixth years left that are eligible. The biggest difference, I suppose, would be sharing quarters with you. I... I'm terrified, to be honest. But the plan you set up with McGonagall and Dumbledore – " at which Snape scoffed " – has made me feel better about the situation than I have in weeks." 

Snape looked Hermione in the eye, grabbing her attention. Thinking her words over carefully, he said evenly, "I am still just as much of a bastard as I ever was, and I will continue to be so until the day I die. I am not affectionate, nor am I easily swayed with tears. I have a cruel streak a mile long, and that will not change either. The only promises I can make to you is that I _will_ protect you and I will never physically harm you. You will be provided for more than sufficiently, and I have every intention of allowing you to choose your own path. Again, it will only be a marriage of convenience. I believe that is everything you need to know, and I'm going to let you rest and make your final decision." With a swish of his robes, he exited the ward, nodding to Madam Pomfrey as he passed by. Immediately, she bustled over to Hermione with a tray of food and a few vials. Hermione was completely at a loss as to what to think. 

xxxxx 

It was almost ten o' clock at night when the potions master returned to the hospital wing with Professor McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey had been force-feeding soup to Hermione all throughout the evening, which made her feel ill on her stomach. She had no idea how long it had been since she had eaten a real meal, and apparently neither did her stomach. After her third trip to void her stomach and refresh her charms, she emerged from the restroom to see McGonagall and Snape waiting for her by her bed. She hoped they were oblivious to her real reasoning behind her frequent trips to the washroom. Dread knotting in the pit of her belly, she slowly walked towards them. 

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape," she said in nervous greeting, perching on the edge of her bed. 

"Are you feeling better, dear girl?" her Head of House asked concernedly, noting that she no longer looked of death, but she still looked rather peaky. 

"Yes, Headmistress, much better. I suppose I should know better than to let a cold go untreated. This marriage law business has my priorities all out of line." Hermione tried to perk herself up a bit, knowing her House Mother would have a fit if she knew how Hermione really felt. 

"Well, have you made a decision?" McGonagall asked, preparing to get right down to business. There wasn't much time left. 

Had Hermione made her decision? Of course she had. From the first moment they mentioned the idea of her marrying the austere bat of the dungeons, she knew it was what she needed to do. If there was any other option, she would willingly choose it over Malfoy. The know-it-all in her thought logically about marrying Snape, and she found that she did trust the man enough to take him for his word. How could she not? As much as no one wanted to believe that he was an honest man, she knew it was true. He would never break a promise, and refused to go back on his word. Looking at everything he had accomplished for the wizarding world, she decided that Severus Snape was her best option to protect her from Lucius Malfoy and any other person determined to ruin her life. 

"Yes. I... I think... You are both right. I have no one else. And if Professor Snape truly has no one else to adhere to the law with, either, it wouldn't make sense for us to _not..._ er, get _married_. I do not underestimate his ability to protect me, _i_ _f_ Malfoy decides he wants revenge. I just... I _can't_ marry that mad man. If he's anywhere near as sadistic as his sister-in-law, Bellatrix..." She shivered and subconsciously rubbed the massive scar the crazy bitch left on her arm. Setting her jaw determinedly, she said, "No. I will do it. I will marry the professor. After all, it will only be a marriage of convenience. We'll have until June to figure out the rest of the... requirements." Blushing furiously, she hid her face by forcing a cough. 

"Alright then," McGonagall said, nodding her head. "We'll set up an impromptu ceremony for tomorrow night. Poppy says her tonics should have you better by morning, so you still have your Monday morning classes. I suggest you rest up." 

The two professors both left, and Hermione couldn't help but notice Snape's very stony silence. She supposed he was a man of few words, and he probably believed he had already told her everything she needed to know from him. Trying not to think too hard on it, laid back into her bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep. 

xxxxx 

Hermione shot out of her hospital bed, barely managing to stifle her scream trying to rip forth from her nightmare. It was the same as always, but there was once again something that felt off about it. Something that made it seem different. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, shouting at her to realize what was amiss. 

Calming her labored breathing, Hermione stared into the low-burning torch hanging next to her bed as she contemplated what was off about her dream. Everything was exactly the same, down to every last word her father roared at her. 

Her thoughts finally drifted away from her nightmare after a while, her mind turning instead to her professor. She found it difficult to believe that in less than twenty-four hours' time, she would be getting married. And not just married to anyone, but to her Potions' professor, no less. It was as if she was in a daze, the idea of marrying Severus Snape belonging only in an alternate reality. 

She wasn't repulsed by the man as most women were. He didn't possess the traditional good looks, per say, but he definitely had his positive attributes, and Hermione was never one to base her feelings towards someone based on their physical appearance. Not that she had feelings for the man in the slightest, but she definitely did not dislike him. She could definitely do much worse than him, which is what she was trying to avoid. As much of a cynical bastard he was, she knew he was going to be the best she could do given the circumstances. 

A few hours of rumination finally brought the sun up over the horizon, which did not cheer Hermione as much as it should. Though she knew it had to be done, and could be much, much worse, that did not keep her frazzled nerves from dreading the night to follow. 

It wasn't long after the sun had risen that Madam Pomfrey sidled up to Hermione, insisting on making sure she ate a large bowl of porridge before going to her classes. Hermione tried to eat as quickly as she could, wanting to make an appearance in the Great Hall before rumors began to spread. She didn't care much about what students gossiped about, but she didn't want her friends to worry or think she had dropped from the face of the planet. 

The porridge was much too heavy for her body to handle, and it took every ounce of her willpower to not let it come back up in Madam Pomfrey's presence. Instead, she fled the hospital wing as fast as she could manage to find a less inscrutable place to purge. She finally made a stop at the second floor girls' restroom, emptying most of the contents of her stomach, her body still not adjusted to eating after abstaining for so long. As she wiped her mouth of the remnants, she heard a giggle come from the u-bend, which made Hermione groan. 

"Not today, Myrtle." 

Another giggle resounded before Moaning Myrtle appeared out of the toilet. She looked joyous, which seemed to be a habit for her for that month. "Ooooohhh, trying to lose weight?" 

Hermione tried to summon the best death glare she could contrive, which she realized was slightly ironic given the way Myrtle had kicked the bucket. "Go away." 

"Ooohh, someone is in a bad mood," Myrtle cackled, propping her elbows on the seat of the toilet. "Throwing up will never work. I tried that, when I was alive. It won't help you find a husband." She giggled and floated from the porcelain bowl to hover over Hermione as she exited the stall and washed her hands. 

"Piss off," Hermione growled at the ghost, not the least bit happy with Myrtle's accusation. She dried her hands quickly and stalked out of the bathroom, reigning in her temper to keep from cursing the joyous spirit. She heard Myrtle call to her as the door shut behind her, but she just ignored it and made her way to the Great Hall, hoping she wasn't too late to catch her friends. Checking her watch, she saw she still had time and picked up her step. Once she made it, she walked to the Gryffindor table, settling herself across from Neville and Ginny. Luna wasn't in the Hall, which didn't surprise Hermione too much. Her two friends openly gaped at her. 

"What?" she asked, annoyed already. 

"Where have you been, Hermione?" Ginny asked, her look very plainly stating it was unusual for Hermione to be absent, even for a day. 

"Sick. I was in the hospital wing yesterday," she explained, trying not to sound too serious. "It was just a cold, but the headmistress insisted I needed Madam Pomfrey's assistance. I'm much better now." 

Neville tried to say something but the post arrived in a flurry of noise, drowning him out. A solid black owl dropped in front of Hermione carrying a scroll, making Hermione feel as though the pit of her stomach had dropped out. Hermione relieved the creature of the letter, but didn't have time to offer the bird anything before it took off again. Making sure Ginny and Neville were preoccupied with their own post, she unrolled the letter quickly and read: 

_Astronomy Tower at Midnight._

She realized that that must have been Professor Snape's owl, which figured as it was black. At least it wasn't a bat. 

Grabbing up her bag and ignoring Ginny and Neville's questions, Hermione trekked to her first class of the day, dreading what was to come later that night. 

xxxxx 

The day went by as any other typical day would, but Hermione found herself on edge, for which she was not surprised. Critically thinking about the whole situation, she realized more and more how much danger she was truly in. If she married Professor Snape, he would become a target as well. Could she really do that to a man who had already sacrificed literally _everything?_ He had suffered enough to last ten lifetimes. Was it really fair for her to possibly cause him more suffering just because she didn't want to suffer alone at the hands of Malfoy? She was so confused about the whole situation, but it didn't really matter anymore. She had made her decision, as had Professor Snape. He had agreed to marry her, the bane of his teaching experience (next to Neville Longbottom), and that meant he really didn't have another choice either. 

At lunch, she noticed he was absent, but she couldn't concern herself with it too much. It wasn't unusual for him to skip meals in the Great Hall. Ginny and Neville noticed her eyeing the head table. 

"Everything okay, Hermione?" Neville asked as Luna took a seat next to him. Hermione couldn't help but pine a little at their ability to be close. The headmistress couldn't very well in good conscience separate married couples for meals, so the Ravenclaw, as well as many other students, were allowed to dine with their significant others at whichever table they wished. 

"What?" Hermione asked, moving her eyes away from the staff table. "Oh, oh yes. I'm fine. Just been a little out of sorts lately. I'm sure you understand." 

The three nodded in unison, looking at her as though she were an abandoned puppy. Ginny decided to ask the question they were all inwardly thinking. "So you still haven't received a petition?" 

Hermione was not ready to answer that question, and she knew it would take much more than a lunch hour to explain her unusual circumstance to the three. Opting instead for a truthful, vague statement, she replied, "I really don't wish to discuss it as of the moment." 

They could understand that sort of reasoning and left it alone, though the knowing looks Luna was giving Hermione sent worried chills down her spine. 

xxxxx 

After her last class, Hermione managed to arrive at her room as quickly as possible and ward the door. The buzzing of the castle seemed to only grow stronger the more the day progressed, and though she knew it had nothing to do with her, it made her anxiety levels skyrocket. She only had an hour before dinner, so she decided to make the best of her free time and do some homework, distracting herself of the coming night. 

After mealtime had come and gone, Hermione made her rounds that she had missed the night before. Her pneumonia was completely gone thanks to Poppy Pomfrey's care. No, there was no cure for a cold or pneumonia, but wizarding science had managed to shorten the infection down to hours instead of days. She was glad to be feeling much better on that front, but her malnourished body still left her feeling sluggish. She hadn't attempted to eat any more that day, the porridge fiasco from that morning still weighing heavily on her mind. Her supplements did their best to boost what little nourishment she had gotten from her breakfast. 

Her weakened body was beginning to feel worse for wear and she was having dizzy spells a little more often than usual, but she did her best to ignore it. It would sort itself out soon enough, she hoped. 

After her rounds, Hermione laid in her bed and waited for the predetermined hour where she was to sign her life away, in a manner of speaking. It was becoming difficult for her to focus on what was to come. She supposed she was in shock. She wasn't panicking like she thought she would. Everything seemed to fall into place, but there seemed to be an underlying detail that gave her a vicious turn in her stomach that she couldn't figure out. She was missing something, and she couldn't for the life of her think of what it could be. Whatever it was, it wasn't good, and she knew it could possibly break her. 

Looking at the clock on her mahogany nightstand, she saw that she had only thirty minutes to get ready and make her way to the Astronomy Tower. Groaning as she rolled from her bed, she didn't even bother changing out of her school robes, the layers and charms hiding her body nicely and keeping her warm. She did, however, bother with combing her hair, the mass of curls having become riotous from lounging in her bed. Checking her appearance in the mirror of her bathroom, she supposed she was presentable enough for an extempore union. Grabbing her wand from her nightstand and pulling on her trainers, Hermione exited her dorm and began walking towards the seventh floor at a deliberately slow pace. 

When she had made it about halfway to the tower, that detail she couldn't figure out popped into her head. 

_Oh, dear Merlin! I'm going to have to sleep with him. Tonight!_

She froze, clutching her chest as her knees buckled. She was going to have to have sex. With him. Her professor. She wasn't a virgin, but that one experience... The thought almost made her heave. 

It was a requirement, though. For the ceremony to be binding, the marriage had to be consummated within just a few hours of the ceremony, otherwise the joining would be null and void. Which meant that Malfoy would still have his chance. That thought did little to comfort her, knowing what was to come. Her legs became wobbly, so she found the nearest alcove to sit down before she collapsed. Once she was firmly seated, she began shaking uncontrollably, her breath coming out in gasps. 

This was it. The panic attack she had been waiting for. Quickly casting a silencing charm around her, she let the sobs burst forth like a dam bursting in a storm. She felt her world crashing down around her, and flashes of her father rushed through her mind, frightening her even more. She didn't know if she could go through with it. Not again. Not when her first and only experience had been so... horrific. All she could remember was pain and humiliation. 

She couldn't do it. She couldn't. 

So she fled. 


	8. The Challenge

The door to Hermione's room slammed open as she approached it, her wandless magic taking heed to her needs. She rushed inside and shut it behind her with a quick wave of her hand, her strong emotions fueling her unaided magic to her will. Opening her wardrobe door, she knelt on the floor in front of it and began rummaging around the large bottom drawer. Her hand clasped the small beaded bag she was searching for, lifting it from the drawer as she stood once again. She looked around her room for only a moment before before she began grabbing clothes from the wardrobe. She snatched everything she could within reach, her heart pounding faster and faster as panic only took over more and more. Finally growing too impatient, she cried out in desperation, " _Accio carpe omnia!_ " 

Objects from all around the room began flying from their resting places one after another, taking turns approaching Hermione as she directed the summoned items to the inside of her bag. It took considerably less time than if she packed the muggle way, and it was only a minute or two before all of her belongings were safely stored inside her little beaded Handbag of Wonders. She rushed into the bathroom and performed the same spell, being sure to only summon her belongings. She ran back into the bedroom for one last look. Checking around for anything she may have forgotten, she saw a grumpy looking Crookshanks slinking from the other side of her stripped bed, obviously having been tossed off when the bedding was wrenched from beneath him. 

"Oh, Crooks, I forgot about you..." she moaned sadly. What was she going to do with her familiar? Spending a frighteningly long minute deciding what the best course of action could be, she leaned down a stroked the orange furball in contemplation. Her spur of the moment plan had included retreating to the many forests over England and Scotland as they had the two years before, on the run from Voldemort's goons. Only this time, she wouldn't have Harry and Ron to go with. She was going to be alone. 

"Come on, Crooks. We're going traveling." 

When Hermione moved forward to grasp her half-Kneazle, Crookshanks gave her an irritated meow and hopped up on her bare mattress, laying down and closing his eyes. His obvious choice upset her more than she liked to admit, so she mumbled, "Well, I guess you've made your choice. I... They'll take good care of you here. Maybe I'll see you again, one day." 

With that, she leaned over the bed and stroked him one last time in farewell. Trying not to get too caught up in the moment, she tore her hand away and rushed for the door. After one last glance, she fled through the threshold, tearing through the corridor and taking the stairs down two steps at a time. 

She was more than a little winded by the time she reached the front steps of the castle, and her legs were shaking to keep up her pace. She had ran the whole way from the fourth floor, and realized she had less and less time before they figured out that she had flown the coop. 

She reached the Womping Willow right as the hands on her watch reached midnight. 

Levitating a twig to press the knot that froze the threatening tree, Hermione slipped into the depths of the tunnel, quickly setting up a stooped stride. It seemed to take forever to get through the tunnel, its small space making her cringe with claustrophobia. She scraped and banged her elbows and knees enough to bloody and tear up her clothing from tripping and falling repeatedly. The light she emitted from the tip of her wand only did moderately well to help her see where she was going. It didn't really matter to her much, though. She wasn't bothered to try and protect herself from small injuries, she was just trying to get as far away from her completely insane society as possible. 

After a endlessly long bit of crouched running, she finally arrived at the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. Once she passed through the trap door leading into the dingy living room of the impossibly old house, she gasped in shock and flattened her back against the dusty wall. 

She had forgotten about the last time she had been in that room, and it was obvious that everyone else had, too. The massive amounts of blood that had been shed well over a year before in that very spot had been left there to permanently stain the floors and some parts of the wall. The gory sight made her heave uncontrollably for a moment, and she slumped to the floor to break into devastated sobs. 

How had she gotten herself into this mess? Why couldn't she just grit her teeth, get the consummation over with, and go about her semi-normal life like Snape had suggested? He had already reassured her that there was very little possibility that they would see each other often, and they had until the summer holidays to find a way around the conception bit of the law. All of that sounded more simple than what she was doing, and it certainly was more simple than if Malfoy got his way. Her virtue was gone, so she definitely wasn't worried about protecting it. 

Then why was she running? Her sobs lowered to violent shivers as she thought about her subconscious' reasoning. If she wasn't worried about herself, then it had to be him. 

Severus Snape had literally sacrificed _everything_ for the wizarding world. He had even sacrificed himself, and it was a pure miracle that he was still alive. The blood splatter in the room was a testament to that. And after everyone had asked everything of him, and he had given everything he had and then some, she had turned around and asked him for more. She was a complete and total bitch, and she deserved her fate, whether she died in the woods or died in the hands of Lucius Malfoy. 

She supposed it didn't matter anymore. The damage was done. She had fled and forfeited her only chance at any form of normalcy. She couldn't bring herself to intrude on man who was just recently set free. 

The only thing she had left to do was head out on her journey, and she supposed there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Standing up from the floor and brushing herself off shakily, she closed her eyes and began to think of a good place to start her adventure. Just as she raised her wand to apparate away, a deep, silken voice asked harshly, "Going somewhere, Granger?" 

The voice had startled her so badly she almost splinched herself trying to keep from apparating. Hermione immediately flattened herself against the wall and held her wand in front of her, frantically looking around for the owner of the voice. A towering dark figure emerged from the entrance to the tunnel, and Hermione felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her. 

"P-Professor Snape!" she cried, regretting not apparating right away. 

"All you had to do was say no," he said in a dangerously calm voice. 

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, too frightened to really say anything. 

"Would you mind explaining to me," he said with a malicious growl, "why all of your belongings have disappeared and I find you in this dismal place about to apparate away?" 

He was keeping a fairly even voice, but she could tell he was furious. 

"I... I..." Her voice was failing with a crack of strain, trying to keep herself from breaking down again. She slumped to the floor with her back propped against the wall, her wand clattering to the old floorboards and rolling away. She avoided his eye and sat silently, tremors of fear coursing through her. 

"Answer me, wench! Why did you run?" he growled more loudly, his anger beginning to slip through. 

He was met with silence again as she cowered with her head tucked between her knees. She couldn't control her body as she shook like a leaf. How was she supposed to explain? 

"Look at me." 

She didn't realize he had moved in front of her, and as soon as she looked up, he locked eyes with her and whispered, " _Legilimens_." 

She felt him grasp her wrist as he spoke those words. The intrusion into her mind was immediate, and though her first natural reaction was to resist, he was a master of the skill and easily overrode her unfortunately untrained mind. The first memory that shimmered across the blackness was that of reading the announcement in _The Daily Prophet_. She knew he could feel her absolute terror as she watched all of the of-age males in her school receive their letters. Next was the images of all of her friends being married, Hermione standing alone and still without suitors. As those images drifted out, the memory of reading Lucius' letter floated to the forefront, her absolute incredulity apparent. 

Hermione was appalled that the man had the audacity to enter her mind without her permission, but as she tried to eject him, he pressed forward with a little more force and broke past her with ease. 

Unexpectedly, an image of her huddled under her desk at home cropped up, and she could hear fierce howling from her father. With a gasp and forceful shove, she successfully expelled Snape from her mind. She quickly closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, hiding her face with her hair and cutting him off from another opportunity to invade her mind. 

They stayed in place silently, neither uttering a word. It was deafening, the tension in the air as thick as wool. She was embarrassed and insulted, and ultimately felt scared. This man before her had the means to break her, and there was much of her life she wished to keep a secret, whether he ended up being her husband or not. 

It took several minutes before he finally spoke. 

"I may have been a little... out of line," he said carefully. "I apologize for the... intrusion." 

Hermione almost sighed in relief before he continued in a much harsher tone. 

"However, you give me no choice. My future is just as much dependent on this whole charade as yours. To do all of this requires cooperation from both parties, and right now I need your cooperation. Now, where were you _going_?" he ended with a rumble, tugging on her wrist which was still in his grasp. 

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding and tried to even her breathing out, the panic not subsiding very much but content that he wouldn't use Legilimency on her again. She thought about his question, still not meeting his eye again, and had no choice but to admit that she was well and truly cornered. 

"I... was going back to the forests. Into hiding." 

Whatever reaction of his she had been expecting, it wasn't the one he gave her. He snorted derisively at her, releasing her wrist and standing up straight. "Pick yourself up off the floor. I know I'm a right bastard, but don't you think that going into hiding is a bit extreme for the circumstances, Miss Granger?" 

Snatching her wand from a few feet away from her, she took her time in standing up straight and brushing the dust from her robes, thinking. She wished she had a good long time to ponder that question, because her impulses were becoming erratic which she knew was unlike her. 

"Possibly." 

"Why did you run?" 

Again, he had struck her with a question that she could think of no excuses for. She had no choice but to answer truthfully, even if her voice didn't want to fully cooperate. "I... I'm not sure, exactly? I was on my way to the Astronomy Tower, thinking. And, well, I thought about it too much... I suppose. I realized how much of a brat I am for asking y-you to do more for me when you've already given so much to everyone in the wizarding world. That makes me selfish to ask you... to possibly involve you in whatever Malfoy has planned, when you shouldn't have to be part of any of this. And... And maybe some other things frightened me, so I fled. It was the only way to keep myself and others from getting hurt... because of me." 

"Oh, dear Lord. More Gryffindor sentiment," Snape scoffed. "If you do recall, Granger, you were not the one to ask me to do this. I was not the one to ask you. The old man and Headmistress can be blamed for that. However, they asked me to do it before you were even aware of their plan, and I agreed _only_ because it will be a convenience for me and possibly even more so for you. In a vague way, you could say that I am _not_ opposed to this. So keep your Gryffindor feelings to a minimum – I am choosing this, not being forced." 

Hermione looked confusedly at him. "But, sir... Malfoy – " 

"I have no fears of Lucius Malfoy," he spat with venom. "The man may be strong, but I surpassed his skills decades ago. He will not pose much of a problem. Now, enlighten me, what else troubles you over this?" 

Hermione felt her face flush with embarrassment at his very specific question. Should she tell him? That she's terrified of going to bed with him? Terrified of going to bed with any man? Her head was beginning to pound with all of her jumbled, insane thoughts, her tired body draining more energy than it should. 

"I... I can't go through... With the consummation," she finally admitted in barely a whisper, bringing her hands up to rub her face wearily. 

The shack felt deathly still as her words hung in the air. After a few long moments, she heard him mutter, "I admit, I do not look forward to it, either. May I remind you, I've spent six and a half years teaching you, and it is very difficult to see you as a young woman rather than a child. It helps that you've matured this past year, but do not, for one moment, think I have lecherous intentions." 

"I'm sorry you can't understand, sir," she said, tears in her voice. She didn't want the sobs to break forth. "But I just don't think I _can_. I'm... I'm absolutely terrified. I can't subject myself to that. Not agai– Not like this." She caught her words, and she hoped Snape hadn't heard her slip-up. An odd look passed over his face, which he quickly masked with indifference. 

He pondered for a moment before finally saying slowly and without much irritation, "I have a potion that could help... ease your nerves. It lowers inhibitions, but allows you to keep your composure and remain calm. If you... _agreed..._ to retry the ceremony, you would be more than welcome to it. I only plan on experiencing this the required once. I have until June to find a way around the other requirements." His tone suggested great restraint on his part. 

"So you basically want to get me drunk?" The tone of her voice was less than amused as she turned to face him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. 

"Dammit, Granger," he cursed. "Didn't you listen to what I said? It lowers the drinker's inhibitions but allows them to keep their _composure_. I could never take advantage of an intoxicated woman, nor could I ever take a woman against her will," he snapped. Turning away and making for the exit, he mumbled, "Insulting chit. Are you coming?" 

Hermione gave him a startled look, at which he stopped and turned to look back at her. "Well?" 

"So I'm not being selfish for using you as an easy way out?" she asked in a small voice. 

He gave her an exasperated look. "I am using you just as much as you are using me. Now, we must hurry before the old crone has an aneurism." 

Still unsure about everything, but obviously outmatched, she reluctantly followed the dark wizard. 

xxxxx 

Hermione and Snape arrived back at the castle and made their way to the Astronomy Tower in silence. Neither really had anything to say, and Hermione was still terrified, though she felt better that he was supposedly using her, too. Most of her worries had been eased, except for the wedding night, which she could only hope that the miracle potion the professor had would be enough to keep her from completely falling apart. Once they arrived at the door to the tower, she hesitated, even though she knew there was no better way out. Professor Snape opened the door and held it open for her, raising a weary eyebrow at her reluctance. She shrugged and slowly made her way through, immediately seeing the headmistress standing in the middle of the tower with a book in her hand. Snape followed her through and nodded towards the older woman. 

"I trust everything is okay?" she asked, her thick Scottish accent breaking the silence as the old woman eyed Hermione's bloodied and torn clothes. 

"Indeed. Let's do this as quickly as possible." Snape had his usual impatient facade back in place, only, Hermione was pretty sure it wasn't a facade. The Headmistress beckoned them both to stand before her, and only then did Hermione notice there was fourth person on the tower. 

"Luna?" Hermione gasped, now completely at a loss. 

"Congratulations, Hermione," she said brightly, her radish earrings swaying happily. "I never knew you were interested in one of our professors, especially Professor Snape. Although I can certainly see why you went for him." 

Hermione blushed furiously and snapped her mouth shut. Before she could correct her friend, Professor McGonagall cut her off. "Miss – Mrs. Longbottom here has agreed to witness the ceremony." 

"Hmm, yes," Luna said dreamily. "I think a midnight wedding is very romantic." The girl's mind seemed to be wandering in a different dimension, which Hermione savagely envied. 

She was pretty sure her face would remain permanently red as she felt herself flush even more at Luna's observation. Luckily, her snarky old potion's master decided to speed everything up. "Minerva, get it over with." 

With a stern look, McGonagall decided to overlook his attitude. "Of course. Time is of the essence." 

xxxxx 

Hermione was relieved that a lot of the formalities were skipped over and her headmistress performing the ceremony pretty well got straight to the point. After having both parties repeat the vows she had chosen for them, she pulled a length of green cord from her robes and bound their hands together, performing the unity ceremony. Hermione was doing everything within her power not to look her soon-to-be husband in the eye, but as McGonagall ended her incantation, a blindingly brilliant silver and gold light engulfed them, and her eyes locked with his own as he drew her to him to seal their marriage with a kiss. His surprisingly soft and warm mouth slid over her own in a very chaste encounter, pulling away within two seconds. It was quick, and before she knew it, it was over. 

She was officially bound to the man before her. They didn't need Minerva's announcement or Luna's congratulations to know that. 

Awkwardness immediately set in, standing there silently as though her voice had been taken from her. Snape... Her husband... Whispered something quickly to the headmistress before beckoning her to come with him. 

As though they had apparated, she suddenly found herself standing outside of the doors to her professor's rooms. Her rooms. 

She hoped she could survive what was to come. 


	9. The Joining

Hermione fidgeted on the black leather couch, keeping her mind as blank as possible to keep herself from having another panic attack. Snape had left her there alone, announcing he was going to his potions stores. On his way out of the room, she heard him mutter something about "clumsy bleeding Gryffindors," at which she assumed he was referring to the cuts and scrapes she had acquired during her attempt at escaping. 

Looking around his living room, she noticed that it was, of course, dark, and the only light in the room was emanating from the fireplace. The walls were lined with nothing but multiple bookshelves, which she noted with an inward, _'Surprise, surprise...'_

Asides from the couch she was sitting on, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a large, comfy looking black leather club armchair, paired with a small side table that had a glass and a bottle of Old Odgen's atop it. There wasn't even anything on his mantle other than more books and a small pot, which Hermione assumed was floo powder. There was a large dark green rug covering the expanse of the sitting area, but otherwise the floors were bare. Yes, it was precisely how she imagined their rooms would be, devoid of natural decor and filled with books. 

She jumped violently when she heard the door open behind her. 

Quickly turning, her hand immediately grabbed hold of the wand in her pocket before she realized it was only Snape. She sheepishly released her wand and removed her hand from her pocket slowly. 

The man did not miss her reaction to his entry, which made his lip curl upward slightly. "Paranoid, Miss Granger?" 

She gave him a stony look. "After spending a year in the wilderness on the run from a madman, I think I might have a right to be." With an added thought she said, "And it's not _Granger_ anymore, sir." 

He raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Indeed. Perhaps... It would be best if we began using given names with one another. This is going to be difficult enough without constantly being reminded of my position over you." 

She nodded mutely, the pit of her stomach freezing over as she was once again reminded of what she had just done and what she was about to do. He stood in place silently for a moment before walking around the couch and handing two flasks to her. "Essence of Dittany for your injuries – I hope this won't be a common occurrence for you. The red vial is a personal creation, _Obstaret Claritate._ I'm sure you know enough Latin to guess what that means." 

Hermione nodded in a distracted manner, examining the two potions as she took them from his grasp. She uncorked the Dittany began dabbing the potion at the bloody spots on her knees and elbows. The sensation of the potion working made her feel a little nauseated. She only had to wait for a few moments until she felt the tell-tale tightening of her skin. She looked at the ragged holes in the knees of her jeans and watched the scrapes slowly fade away. It was uncomfortable, but the tight feeling slowly attenuated away. 

After the healing potion had finished its job, she turned her attention to the red potion, intently staring it down, as though she was trying to see every ingredient in it. 

"Will I regret this?" she asked hesitantly. 

There was silence for only a moment before he responded. 

"Possibly." 

She turned to look at him, only offering a quiet sigh. 

Swallowing thickly, she uncorked the bottle with slightly shaking hands. Giving Snape one last glance, she tipped it to her lips and let the spicy sweetness of the potion run down her throat. The taste wasn't deplorable, surprisingly, but the fact that it tasted decent didn't make her feel any better. She returned her gaze to the now-empty flask, inwardly awaiting the effects of the potion. 

She didn't move from her place on the couch as Snape strode over to his chair-side table and procured his glass, pouring himself a large portion of firewhiskey. It only took moments for Hermione to begin to feel a warmth start forming in her stomach. It didn't take long to slowly commence to spreading outward, reaching her chest and expanding to her extremities. Once the warmth reached behind her eyes, she felt as though her mind had been covered with a thin layer of mesh. She could still think unhindered, but details became fuzzier, out of focus. Not so important. 

The warmth increased a great deal, relaxing her tensed muscles and slowly chipping way at the panic settled in her nerves. She knew what she had to do, but somehow, it wasn't that big of a deal just then. She was looking at the much bigger picture, the one that told her that once that minor inconvenience was out of the way, everything would smooth out considerably. Breaking from her thoughts, Hermione looked at the dark wizard seemingly sulking next to the fireplace. 

The dancing shadows from the fire illuminated the man in a way she didn't believe she had ever seen before. His pale complexion was smooth, and she realized that he actually didn't look all that old. She knew he was only thirty-seven, which was practically a teenager in wizarding years. His shoulder-length black hair settled elegantly, barely touching his shoulders, the finer strands blowing lightly around his face from the energy of the fire. His frame was lean, but she could tell the muscle that lay underneath from years of espionage and fighting for his life. Like her, robes can make any figure deceiving. 

"Professor Snape?" 

He snapped his attention from his glass and the fire to her soft, questioning tone. He had apparently been deep in thought. His gaze on her only lasted a second more before he looked down, swirling his drink lightly and smoothly imbibing the rest of the glass. He then looked back up at her, smirking slightly. "I'm fairly certain it would be inappropriate for you to continue to address me as your professor, especially considering I will no longer be teaching you." 

"Oh?" she asked, noting how her voice made her sound dazed. Deep in her mind, she knew if she was "sober", that statement would have caused her insurmountable alarm. 

"Hnn, yes. Imagine the outrage that would ensue if people found that you were married to your professor." 

Hermione nodded, understanding. Her usual self still would have raised hell, but the potion, funnily enough, helped her think more clearly and logically. She could see everything on a larger scale much more clearly. Besides, the rules in _Hogwarts, A History_ only said that teachers couldn't pursue relationships with students if the of-age student was in one of their classes. "Private tutoring?" 

He nodded almost solemnly. "It shouldn't prove difficult. The headmistress has agreed to allow you early graduation from Potions if your semester grades are up to par, and I will privately tutor you before your N.E.W.T.s. Your usual Potions period will now be a... study hall, I suppose." 

Hermione only let the details skim over her mind. She already understood the situation, and she could very well see why they took the route they did. She really felt as though she should be more outraged or excited. 

She decided to stand and stretch, the potion making her extending muscles groan in complete satisfaction. She let out a small moan, the sensation absolutely wonderful to her. Drawing the stretch out longer than necessary, she was aware that the potion must release endorphins on a mental _and_ physical level. She had to force herself to stop stretching before casually walking to the fireplace with a heady feeling and began reading the titles. She ran a delicate finger over the spines of the tomes, not really paying much attention to the what the titles meant but enjoying the closeness to something comforting to her. Her inner mind tried to panic slightly at her disregard for the danger any of Snape's books probably posed, but those notions were squashed flat with her sensibility. She knew the man was no fool and probably kept his dangerous books locked away, and certainly not on his mantle. 

"Hermione." 

She unconsciously gasped at her name on his lips, as if it were the first time anyone had spoken her name aloud. His voice was a purring rumble, her name rolling easily from his usually sharp tongue. She slowly turned her head towards him, aware a little too late of their close proximity next to the fire. Her brown eyes locked with his onyx, and for the second time that night, Severus Snape took her by the waist and kissed her. 

Unlike the kiss which sealed their lives together, however, this one was more lasting, and he took care to be slow and gentle. 

_'So unSnape like...'_

She allowed herself to start moving her mouth back against his, still hesitant with inexperience. His lips tasted of spearmint, and she could smell the spice of his cologne. He nibbled at her lower lip with his teeth, making her gasp lightly into his mouth. Taking his opportunity, he delved his tongue between her teeth, sensually massaging her own. She felt his skillful hands slide further around her waist and pull her closer, and she was shocked to feel such a firm body pressed against hers. He emanated power and strength, which was exciting and intimidating to her at the same time. Cautiously wrapping her arms around his neck, she decided to try exploring his tongue with her own, reciprocating the sensation. The feeling was incredible, and at the moment she couldn't care less if it was the potion or not. 

Hermione didn't know when it had happened, but suddenly the two of them were both in what she assumed was his darkened bedroom. She felt herself backed into the bed as he removed his lips from hers before trailing them down her along jaw and neck. His meticulous hands slowly began undoing her robes, and there was a certain concupiscence to how smoothly his fingers worked. Once he had her robes pulled away from her, he laid her back and worked on the buttons of her shirt, his fingers diligently and flawlessly making quick work of them. As he removed her shirt, he pulled back to look at her. She saw a glint of confusion in his eye, which he immediately masked by attacking her mouth once more, his hands moving to her jeans this time. Once he got the fasteners undone, she noticed that he definitely hesitated before pulling them off of her in one smooth motion. 

He pulled back once more, taking in her body in only her undergarments. She immediately felt a blush creep up her cheeks as he gave her a quick look that told her _something_ bothered him. Whatever it was, though, she didn't know, and it didn't stop him as he masterfully lifted her and unclasped her bra in one quick motion, settling her back onto the bed before she realized what he did. Her deep inner mind was screaming at her to cover herself, but, again, the bigger picture overrode, reiterating that it needed to be done. After settling that small argument with herself, she realized in vague horror that her knickers were already gone, too. 

When she saw her Potions Master disrobe, she felt a slight thrill run through her, and the rest of the night seemed to melt away, as though a dream. 


	10. The Confrontation

He wasn't sure which he was more disgusted with – what he had just been forced to do to that girl, or her extreme malnourishment that made her more frail than a porcelain doll. There had only been a single solitary candle lighting his bedchamber that night, but it was more than obvious that she was substantially underweight and dangerously so. Severus was furious with himself for not following up after the night she slipped in the second floor corridor and he thought she felt too slight beneath her robes. He was even more furious with the girl, letting herself fall into such a state. 

The gods were overly cruel to him, it seemed. He had finally achieved a moment's peace after almost twenty years, only to have it ripped from him in the most disturbing of ways. Then, when he was given the reprieve of an intelligent young woman as a wife, she had to come with what appeared to be rather serious baggage. The kind of baggage that could prove to be fatal. When he saw her physical state, he had almost stopped immediately and called the whole thing off. He was most reluctant to have intimate relations with a girl who could fall out at any given moment. 

Unfortunately, he knew where his priorities lie, and calling it off wasn't an option by that point. They both would have been left to fates much more undesirable than their current situation, and he could never go back on his word so swiftly. 

It still posed a major problem, though. As much as it pained him to admit it, she was now officially his wife, therefore she was his responsibility. He couldn't care less what the public thought of him, but he couldn't let her have her reputation dragged down any further than she did when she said, "I do." The ridicule she would receive for having a husband who couldn't sufficiently provide for her would probably send them both over the edge. 

No, he couldn't allow anyone to believe that she was receiving anything but the best of care. He may not have been a pleasant man, but he wasn't cruel enough to let society sink its claws into the young Gryffindor. There was still a chance for her. 

It seemed as though some action needed to be taken on his part. His treatment of her still remained to be seen, however. If she insisted upon locking horns with him, he would have no trouble asserting his dominance and discipline. If she complied with little resistance, though, she could have herself a fairly easy-going life with minimal interactions with him. He held no notions of her being the perfect little submissive housewife, but he did expect her to follow what few rules he did have, which were mostly for her safety and some for his own. Nevertheless, his largest priority at the given time was her health, which he considered abysmal at best. 

Once they had completed the ritual, Hermione had promptly lost consciousness, for which he was grateful. All of his encounters of the sexual nature were with paid consorts who left promptly after fulfilling their purpose, which was the way Severus favored. He preferred to not have to see them for much longer than necessary, and in the case of his new bride, he was much too enraged with her to want to deal with her at the moment. So once Severus had cleaned and redressed himself, he gave her the same courtesy and had his house elf remove her to her own room. He knew he was going to need several more hours of thinking through the situation to come up with the best way to approach the problem, preferably over a bottle of Old Odgen's. 

xxxxx 

When Hermione finally woke, the grogginess weighed heavily on her, and she felt as though that was the longest she had slept since before the summer. Yawning blearily, she looked to her left to check the clock on her night stand. 

Only her clock wasn't there. 

She shot up to a sitting position, instantly on full alert. With a small sigh of relief, she grasped her wand from the nightstand, which was the only personal effect she could seem to locate. Her eyes darted all around the cozy bedchamber, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings in a small panic. It took her a couple of moments before she realized she must have been in her new room. It was completely bare with the exception of a roaring fireplace and the massive king size bed she was currently sunk into. The bed was dressed with dark green and silver bedding, with a large canopy doused in the same colors. She almost smiled to herself about how Slytherin Professor Snape could be. 

Until she actually remembered about Professor Snape in general. 

All of her memories from the previous night seemed to flood through her mind, one image after another assaulting her visage of the things she had done with the brooding man. The potion he had given her had obviously worked, and she had trooped through it like a champ. Unfortunately, the pride she felt within herself for making it through the consummation was promptly swallowed by feelings of extreme guilt and filth. She had seemed so enthusiastic, she may as well have been the tramp she felt she was. For Merlin's sake, he couldn't even hardly look at her while they were in the act, and shame burned her cheeks from the memory. Feeling his body on hers hadn't felt terrible, which didn't make her feel any better about herself. Not in the slightest. 

Rolling from the bed, her feet touched the cold stone floor as she got herself upright. She looked at herself and saw that she was back in her robes, which only humiliated her further thinking of Snape dressing her. Feeling around in the deep pockets of her robes, she grasped the beaded purple bag that contained all of her belongings. After looking at the door quickly to find if she could hear anything going on on the other side, she opened the beaded bag and whispered with a cracked voice, " _Ut vos erant._ _"_

She held the bag away from her, allowing her possessions to file out of the bag, one after another. She directed the expelled items to their places around the room, taking a full ten minutes to get everything situated. Once everything was settled, Hermione looked around, noting there were three doors along the walls. Walking to the one closest to her bed, she opened it warily and peeked inside. 

With a sigh of relief, she saw that it was only a large closet. Stepping inside it, she opened her beaded bag and once again uttered the incantation, allowing more of her possessions to be stored around the space. Satisfied, she reemerged into her room and checked the door next to her closet door. 

It opened to reveal a rather lavish wash room. There was a large sunk-in bathtub surrounded by different taps and torches next to an enclosed glass shower case. Along the opposite wall was an ornate vanity with a sink. After exploring the bare cabinets with the exception of bath towels, she stood straight and performed the spell one more time, placing her personal effects in the cabinets. 

By the time she was done, she was almost panting with effort. It had been a long time since she had performed so much magic at once, and it had been draining her more than she thought it could. 

She finally removed herself from the wash room and back into her bedroom, where she was met with the sight of the third door. She knew there was only one logical option for that door to provide, and the thought of it made her tremble. Approaching it with caution, she raised a shaking hand to the knob, praying to whatever gods existed that Professor Snape wasn't in the next room. Her hand touched the cool brass of the knob, her nerves jumping wildly about as different scenarios played through her mind. The more they passed through her mind, the more panicked she became, until she finally wrenched her hand away from the door as though it had scalded her. 

She couldn't face him. Not yet. 

In her anxiety, she backed away from the door as though it was going attack her. When the end of the bed stopped her from backing away further, she turned and approached her nightstand, where a small wooden box lay atop it. Grabbing the box, she fled to her bathroom and shut the door behind her. 

Rushing to the sink, she turned on the tap and let the bowl fill with icy cold water. Pulling her hair back with one hand, she plunged her face beneath the surface, trying not to gasp underwater at the overwhelming cold. She held herself there, trying to calm herself as she attempted to focus on only the feel of liquid swishing around the outside of her cheeks. It wasn't working like she wanted, the images of her with Snape not letting up, giving her flashbacks of her father. 

After almost a full two minutes, she emerged quickly from the water, gasping for air before collapsing to the floor. Propping her back against the cabinet, she pulled her knees to her chest and felt around her robes pockets. Sitting on the floor next to the vanity, she pulled the box from her pocket and opened it, grabbing what she needed. 

_His warm hands gripping her hips, his lips moving slowly across her neck –_

Rolling up the sleeve of her robe, Hermione barely cringed at all the scars adorning her arm. 

_She didn't feel pain, but she wasn't even sure she was feeling anything at all. Their bodies moved together, and she could hear herself moan –_

She pressed the blade to her skin, the cold metal familiar. 

_The dark depths of his eyes pierced into hers, and she felt herself shudder at the detachment she saw there –_

The first cut made her sob, but she continued on in the relief she felt. She felt the skin easily slice open and the blood running slowly down her arm. She didn't hesitate, desperate to feel something other than shame and guilt. After three more jagged lines like the first, she threw her blade to the cold stone floor and wailed, dropping her head between her knees. 

She felt weak and hungover, her magic feeling hazy and her body aching, particularly in her nether-region. Sobbing loudly, she rocked herself gently as she tried to focus on the stinging of the cuts on her arm. She felt completely lost, completely confused and abused. She never wanted any of it. She didn't want to be stuck with Snape the rest of her life, and she felt absolutely terrible that he was forced to be stuck with her. It was far too late to go back at that point, though. They had completely bound themselves to one another. That bond would only break when one of them became widowed... 

_Leave that thought for another day..._

After sitting on her bathroom floor for nearly an hour, her arm finally quit bleeding and she had managed to calm herself. She cleaned up the water and blood she had spilled, taking care to vanish all of the bloodied mess. Once she was finished cleaning, she opted to take a hot bath in the tub that seemed almost too big. 

She carefully chose which taps to use, almost enjoying the different options she had for relaxation, which was just what she needed. As soon as the tub was filled, she lowered herself into the scalding water, hissing as the different soaps made contact with the incised skin of her arm. She washed herself slowly and paid mind to her still-raw arm, carefully scrubbing it to remove the excess dried crimson. She had no clue what time it was, and she honestly didn't care. She had no intentions of going to her classes. She knew that word traveled remarkably fast in the wizarding community, and in a castle filled with teenagers, she knew everyone was already well informed of her binding to the dreaded potions' master. She didn't feel stable enough to deal with it, at least not that day, so she surrendered to an extended soak using a warming charm to keep the water hot. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, and a couple times of jerking herself out of near-sleep, she finally removed herself from the makeshift comfort zone she had created within her domocile and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel she had found under the sink cabinet. 

Hermione finally entered her bedroom again and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. With a grumble, she saw it was just past one in the afternoon. Giving a frustrated sigh, she flumped back on her bed and stared at the stone ceiling. It was going to be a long day of self-torment. 

xxxxx 

He had not missed her absence. That morning's issue of The Daily Prophet proudly displayed his and her nuptials, much to the outrage of many people. By the time his last class of the day finally ended, he had already assigned at least a dozen detentions to students who felt their snide comments towards him were justified. After the joint hundred and tenth point had been taken from all four houses, the headmistress finally decided to intervene, announcing at lunch that disrespecting a teacher from that point on would result in Hogsmeade visits being revoked. The threat worked well enough, which prevented Severus from hexing the little brats. It would not bode well for him to face charges for assault in addition to the already possible charges for marrying a student. 

He well-knew there was nothing the Ministry could really do, as he had researched the subject very thoroughly. However, that wouldn't stop them from trying, and if he appeared volatile on top of everything else, it would only give them more fuel to take as much action as they could. He may have been a hero in the eyes of some, and everyone knew the truth about his loyalties the entire span of the war, but it didn't stop them from resenting him for what he had to do. 

As soon as the last of his students filed out of the room at four that afternoon, he exited the classroom and warded the door behind him before making his way to his private chambers. He wasn't particularly angry that the little chit hadn't emerged all day, the potion he had given her being designed to help the imbiber sleep an extended period of time after it was used for its purpose. And from what he understood, the other professors were sympathetic and waved off her absence. However, he still had a major problem on his hands, one that needed to be addressed immediately. 

He couldn't get over how infuriated he was with the impertinent girl and was determined to address her problem with her and lay down the law. If she couldn't properly take care of herself, he was going to do it for her and it wasn't going to be pleasant. Once he arrived in his quarters, he paused momentarily to summon his house elf. 

"Kovu." 

A small pop and there was a rather young house elf standing before him, bowing low to the floor. The elf wore a clean green pillowcase, courtesy of Snape, who was disgusted the first time he met his servant who was wearing a nice shade of crimson. 

"The Master has called for Kovu, sir?" 

Severus growled inwardly to himself before replying,"If I have to tell you one more time to stop bowing to me, I will hang you by the ears from a chandelier. Now, has Miss Gr – ah, Madam Snape emerged from her rooms today or taken any meals?" 

The elf shook his head quickly, quivering at the thought of punishment. "No, sir. She is staying in her room and not coming out for anything." 

Severus pressed his lips into a thin line, his irritation with the girl only growing. 

"Bring a tray of tea and biscuits to her room," was his only response before sweeping towards her door and letting himself in. 

He noticed she had already set up her possessions around the room, but the girl herself was nowhere to be seen. He listened carefully for a moment before hearing the sink in her wash room start running. Not waiting on her invitation, he conjured a small coffee table and two squashy armchairs to position next to the fireplace. As soon as he had settled himself next to the fire, a steaming tray of tea and bicuits appeared on the coffee table, the house elf knowing he was forbidden from the bedrooms in Snape's quarters unless he was told otherwise. It only took a couple moments of waiting before he heard her grasp the doorknob of the bathroom and emerge. 

xxxxx 

It took her only half a second to realize someone was in the room with her, but only managed a small squeak before realizing who it was. The bottom of her stomach seemed to fall out as she broke out in a cold sweat, knowing he wasn't there for a social visit. The menacing glare he had in place said it all. 

"P-professor! Erm, Severus. What's, um, what can I do for you?" Stumbling over her words only caused her cheeks to burn more as embarrassment and shame flooded through her. 

She felt certain she knew what his look meant, and it was nothing pleasant. Her theory was confirmed when he stood quickly from his chair and snarled at her, "You know good and damn well why I'm here, girl, so do not test me by playing dumb! I'm going to give you one opportunity to tell me what you're hiding before I force it from you." 

"I.. I don't know what you're talking about," she tried meekly, her body beginning to tremble in intimidation. There were a number of things he could have been referring to, and she wasn't about to just spill all of her secrets. 

Suddenly, he was in front of her, grasping her wrist through her robes to hold her in place. _"_ _Finite adsentari!_ _"_

Hermione suddenly felt her charms and glamors be destroyed by his spell, removing all her shields against anyone seeing her true state. She felt naked to the core, being exposed so abruptly and in the presence of the last person she wanted to see. When all of her charms were lowered, she could feel his grip on her wrist tighten. 

"I'm talking about _this_ , idiot girl!" he barked, flinging her arm away from him and gesturing to her up and down. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? How daft do you suppose me to be?" 

"It's nothing I can't handle," she replied scathingly, locking eyes with the enraged wizard. Even though she tried to maintain a look of indignance, she couldn't help the panic coursing through her. Within the fiasco of the night before, she had completely forgotten to rework her charms. She had let them drop. She had let him see her. "What's it to you?" 

"How much do you weigh?" 

His question was rather straightforward, but Hermione was having difficulty thinking straight in all her panic. Without forethought, she blurted, "How _dare_ you – " 

"Do not play games with me, girl!" he snarled, grabbing her by the arm. 

"It's none of your business – " 

She wished she hadn't said that. The dour wizard looked very much like he wanted to wrap his hands around her neck. 

"You are my _wife_ whether you like it or not so you are my business! I am completely at a right to ask questions that concern your health. Minverva would have my head if she knew what a deplorable state you're in!" He must have noticed the panicked look cross her face, because he continued. "Did you think I wouldn't notice how malnourished you are last night? Did you honestly think I wouldn't care? Within only a few hours of being married, I discover that my bride will probably collapse any day because she _starved_ herself. I will not allow anyone to think I mistreat you because you are my responsibility now!And that means making sure you're not trying to destroy yourself! Now answer the damn question!" he roared at her, causing her to flinch back violently. 

Silence permeated the room as they both waited for her to answer. Severus was seething like an angry bull, and she knew she couldn't get out of the mess she had gotten herself into. 

"Six and a half stone." She barely managed to get it out in a whisper. 

She could see the pure rage pass across his face and she couldn't stop herself from jerking from his grasp. Sudden flashes of her father overtook her as she feared an outburst of anger. It took every ounce of her willpower to not cry out when he roared, "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!" 


	11. The Confusion

Hermione stumbled backwards, tripping over the bed and landing roughly on the stone floor. A pain shot up through her arm as she used her hand to break her fall, scraping her palm against the coarse stone floor. The breath was knocked from her, but Severus didn't seem too terribly concerned with it as he glared at her with fire in his eyes. She felt less than two inches tall as his gaze burned through her. “W-What – !” 

“For Christ's sake, it's not a difficult question!” he bit out roughly, advancing on her to grab her by the arm and haul her from the floor. Standing her before him, he barely managed to control the urge to slap her for her insolence. She could feel heat emanating from him, as well as power. “Do not play dumb with me, wench. It is beneath your intelligence. I need you to tell me why you're nearly _three stone_ underweight!” 

His hold on her ensured that she couldn't move away from him, and he had full intentions of keeping her there until she answered him. She trembled slightly under his grip, his intimidating demeanor overbearing on her. 

“I... I can't eat.” 

Severus raised an eyebrow at her with a sneer. “You _can't_? Or you _won't_? I do not believe I see you as a superficial witch, girl.” With that, he let go or her arm and stepped back. 

“I... I _can't_...” She felt pressure behind her eyes, telling her she wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She refused to let the man see her like that. She had worked so hard to keep her secrets from everyone, yet her damn Slytherin of a husband seemed to catch on within hours. He wasn't going to let it go, either. He used to be a _spy_ , for Merlin's sake! He could get information almost from thin air. It wouldn't be long before he knew everything, but that didn't mean she was going to just hand over all of her secrets. “Every time I try, it just doesn't happen... Nothing has flavor anymore... If I eat more than a couple bites of something, it comes back up... I've tried to take supplements, appetite enhancing potions... Nothing seems to work.” 

Severus eyed her sharply. With a slightly skeptical tone, he asked, “How long has it been like this?” 

Hermione bit her lip, rubbing her arm absently where he had grabbed her. “Since July.” 

Severus heart pounded in fury, and the urge to strangle the little chit only worsened. He felt rage course through him quickly, and he barely managed to keep from yelling at her, “You've lost nearly forty pounds in _three months_? Why have you not sought _help_ , you daft girl?” 

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but only found that she had no answer for that. When she thought about it, she realized that she never once thought of asking anyone for help, not even her Head of House, who was like a second mother to her. Something just always told her that she could deal with it on her own, she didn't need to worry others with it. But Severus had a really good point. She had lost way too much weight for such a short amount of time, and it should have alarmed her much more than it did. Hermione had never been too shy to ask authority figures for assistance, so what had changed? 

“I... I don't know. I just thought... It was something I could handle on my own. I didn't realize I was going too far until it was too late. I honestly can't say why I didn't seek help. Now that I think about it, I'm almost frightened that I paid so little mind to it...” Hermione grasped the back of one of the chairs beside the fireplace to carefully lower herself onto it, almost shocked at her revelation. It actually disturbed her quite a bit, making her quiver even though she was next to a roaring fire. Severus decided to calm himself a bit as well, taking a seat in the chair across from her and pouring himself a cup of tea with rather white knuckles. His sharp observation of her over the following few silent minutes only increased, making Hermione almost fidget with how uncomfortable she was with all this forthcoming information. And from herself, nonetheless. She felt her chest fill with that familiar anxiety, and very strong emotions of self-loathing threatened to knock her over in a tidal wave. Subtly grabbing her unhealed arm through her robe, she rubbed the raw damaged skin, using the pain to manage the growing anxiety in her chest. It was almost fifteen minutes before Severus finally seemed to come out of his reverie. 

Though his attitude remained with him. “Christ Almighty, Granger, how could you be so _utterly_ blind? I do not know why you're having difficulty eating, but needless to say, we _will_ be fixing the problem and you _will_ give me your full cooperation. Until we discover what the source of your problem is, you will take _small_ steps back to a regular eating habit.” With that said, he summoned his young house elf and requested broth and crackers. When the house elf disappeared to the kitchen to prepare the food, Severus returned his full attention back on her. 

“You will not miss another meal. _At all_. Kovu will be monitoring your intake, and he will report to me to let me know if you've been cooperating. If you wish to take meals here, Kovu will bring it to you. However, if you decide to blatantly disobey me, I can resort to _much_ more drastic measures.” 

With that, the dour man swept from her room in a billow of black robes, slamming the door shut behind him. Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, her flurry of emotions blowing about her in a spiral and making her more anxious. A sudden sharp sting brought her gasping back to reality, which she then realized she was still gripping her arm and had reopened some of the cuts from her rough treatment. Pulling her hand away from her arm, she managed to cast a cleansing charm right before Kovu popped into her room with the soup Snape had requested. 

The defiant witch inside of her almost wanted to refuse the meal, not wanting to allow her husband full control on her life. Her sensible side, however, knew that the dark wizard did not issue empty threats, and he was only trying to help her. Not that she deserved any help. 

Picking up the bowl of broth, she cringed at the smell and almost couldn't bring the spoon to her mouth. Swallowing the last shred of her pride, she sipped the hot liquid from the spoon, trying not to burn herself. 

It tasted like contaminated water, which Hermione made a face at before frowning. The taste of food was only getting worse. She had barely managed to choke down anything before because of the taste, and it was only growing more deplorable. Sighing in frustration, she picked the bowl up and tipped it to her lips, downing a large mouthful. It did nothing to help the taste, but she'd rather skip the drawn out unpleasantness of sipping it. It settled in her stomach with a very unhappy gurgle, and Hermione knew it wanted to make a reappearance. It didn't make sense to her. She could drink water. She could drink plenty of water and it wouldn't affect her one bit, but that small portion of chicken broth made her ill almost instantly. She never knew that the human body could be so outrageously picky. 

Hermione couldn't continue with the soup so she banished the tray away. Crawling into her bed, she hoped a good lie-down would keep her relaxed enough to not worry about her nausea. 

xxxxx 

Only forty-five minutes had passed before Hermione was startled by her door slamming open. She sat up quickly, grabbing her wand, before she saw that it was Snape. _Again_. 

“Impertinent girl!” he snarled, advancing towards her. “Did I not make myself clear?”  
  
Hermione looked at him wildly, confused as to what was going on. “What...?” 

“Don't give me that, wench. You didn't even consume two mouthfuls of that soup. Can you imagine why I'm not happy?”  
  
Hermione's anxiety flared in a rush to her chest, breaking her out in a slight cold sweat. “I... I tried! It's just...” Her stomach surged unpleasantly. “I can't...” Another lurch, increasing her cold sweat. “I couldn – ” 

She couldn't even finish her sentence before her stomach gave a final heave, forcing her to turn away from the livid man and make a dash for her lavatory. After latching onto the toilet bowl, her stomach expelled its watery contents, contracting painfully as the moments passed by and she had nothing left to give. After she was sure the convulsions had stopped, she dropped her head onto her arm as she let her body slump against the porcelain, her body feeling only weaker. She laid there with her head on her arm, trying to block out everything around her. She felt remarkably uneasy, and it disturbed her that it had literally gotten down to where she couldn't consume _anything_ except water. The thought frightened her fiercely, making her tremble. It took her a long moment to firgure out that Severus had been standing there watching. 

The look on his face was a cross of confusion and anger, which only added to Hermione's inner turmoil. Trying to explain, she stumbled out, “I – I'm sorry – It's not what you think – ” 

The confusion on Severus' face became slightly more pronounced before he masked it with his usual scowl. “I will be in my study. Do not disturb me.” 

He left her sitting on the floor of her bathroom. 


	12. The Explanation

Severus found himself awake until dawn, sleep eluding him after the fiasco of the previous night. It was not unusual for him to be so restless; however, it was not his night terrors that had kept him awake that night. His thoughts kept bombarding him with the predicament he was in with his new bride. Her inability to consume even the lightest of meals was worrisome, indeed, and he could tell by the anguish on the girl's face that she was concerned as well. He was still angry with her, but only because she had refused to seek help before she had gotten to that point. The more he thought about it, though, the more questions that seemed to crop up. According to her, it was not of her own free will that she was in the state she was currently in, and she had seemed genuinely surprised at her own revelation the night before. He found it hard to believe that she hadn't once thought to ask for help, but she was adament to believe that she had never once held intentions to seek aid and was at a loss as to why. 

He was certain that there were much more underlying problems with her than just her weight. He was no stranger to lack of appetite, especially while under stress. His years of serving the Dark Lord proved stressful enough, and it wasn't until he was out of Azkaban after everything was said and done that he had regained some semblance of a normal diet. He had always been dreadfully underweight up until that point, even when he had been a student. After his release from the Dementors' watch, he had been forced to physically rehabilitate himself to overcome the pain that still wracked his body from Nagini's venom. After only a few months, he was finally at a more suitable weight with a good bit of definition forming in his muscles. With all of that in mind, he definitely understood stress causing the girl to lose her appetite. 

He was almost positive that her problem _was_ stress. Hermione Granger was by no means superficial, and she definitely wasn't daft enough to starve herself for that purpose. However, what _did_ worry him was the stress she might have been dealing with. He understood the marriage law had caused some of the problem, but she said it had started over the summer. 

Problems at home, then. 

When he thought about it, he noticed she had made absolutely no mention of her parents. It definitely raised bells and alarms in his mind. The girl was Muggleborn, and he found that most Muggleborns were very close to their parents. They had to be for their parents to be accepting of what they were. Severus couldn't imagine how Muggle parents felt when they discovered there was a whole other world within their own, and suddenly their child was part of it. Up until that year, he had assumed her parents had taken her differences with grace. So what had changed? 

Shaking his head, Severus closed the book he had been trying to occupy himself with and glanced towards his young ward's door. He supposed he could really only afford to worry about one problem at a time so he reasoned on focusing on the present concern, which was returning her to a healthy state. He knew marrying the wench would be a pain in the ass but he really hadn't anticipated the extent of it. He wanted terribly to ignore the whole ordeal and go about with his plan A, which pretty much entailed completely ignoring her as he had tried to do for over seven years. However, she was obviously not well, and she was his legal responsibility. Severus refused to allow anyone to think that anything belonging to him did not receive the best of care. And he refused to drag the girl's reputation down any further than she had when she married a murderer. 

xxxxxxxxx 

Hermione's internal alarm clock awakened her with time to spare before class, but all she did was groan and roll over, blearily staring at the blank stone wall. She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to go to the Great Hall. She didn't want to have to explain to her friends why she had randomly disappeared, and then all of a sudden they hear from the newspaper that she had married their most despised professor. She knew she had no choice but to give them an explanation, but it was going to take more time than breakfast in the Great Hall, and she knew Ginny would prod at her all day. Christ, not to mention how Harry and Ron would react when they finally saw her again. She was honestly surprised she hadn't received numerous Howlers from everyone she knew. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione rolled out of bed and walked into her bathroom, grumbling. 

Thirty minutes later, she finally emerged from her seclusion, dressed in her uniform and ready to completely ruin her life. She noticed that Snape – Severus – was not there, and that he probably had been long gone. She glanced at the clock and squeaked. There was no time to go to the Great Hall. She wasn't even going to make it to Defense Against the Dark Arts on time. 

As Hermione ran through the empty third floor corridor, well aware she was late for class, she realized that that morning had been the most normal morning for her in a long time. She actually cared about class. She actually cared about her friends. She hadn't felt the need to try and be her old self since the day the daily prophet made the Ministry's big announcement. She supposed that her new husband's reassurances that he would allow her to continue her education and have the career of her choosing gave her her renewed drive to do something with her life. It was not without effort, though. Her breath was coming in short bursts, and by the time she arrived outside her classroom door, she was gasping for air and shaking from the effort of holding herself and her bag up. It worried her, because she used to could make that dash without breaking a sweat and with time to spare. At present, however, she was afraid she was going to pass out from the exertion. 

She took a moment outside the door to catch her breath and stop shaking. She also took the chance to mentally prepare herself. Everyone in the classroom knew about her joining with the dark Potions Master, as did everyone in the school, she assumed. It was going to take every ounce of her supposed Gryffindor courage to get through the day. Taking one last deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside the classroom. 

There was an excruciating moment of complete silence when everyone saw her walk in, then the classroom erupted into a bout of loud whispers, their topic obvious. Clutching her bag to her chest, Hermione bent her head down and made her way to her seat next to Ginny. As she sat down, she looked at Bill, who gave her a slight nod. She knew Bill wouldn't hold this against her in the least, being one of the more sensible Weasleys. Knowing she couldn't escape the inevitable, she turned to look at Ginny. 

Ginny sat there, staring very hard at Hermione, but not saying a word. She didn't have to. She knew all of her questions, and she knew she would have to give most of the answers. With no other pretense, she whispered to Ginny, "Meet me at the Astronomy tower after Charms." 

Ginny gave her a look, obviously very disturbed, then nodded wih a sober expression. Hermione tried to give her a reassuring smile, but the hissing of whispers that surrounded her had taken the last of her courage. Bill was having a difficult time getting the class to pay attention, so he slashed his wand overhead, which sparked fiercely and made the sound of a cracking whip. The class finally went silent, but Hermione knew that wasn't the end of it. 

xxxxxxxxx 

Hermione felt much too sick to her stomach with nerves to attempt the Great Hall at lunch, and the hour after that was Charms. Rather than attend the Great Hall, she holed up in the library for the lunch hour. When it was time for Charms, it took every bit of her determination to stride through that classroom door. Just like in D.A.D.A., whispers immediately erupted around her as she took her customary seat next to Ginny, who was obviously calm enough to not blow up at her but obviously not talking to her 

As soon as class was dismissed, Ginny sprinted out the door, not bothering to wait for Hermione. Hermione should have known people would react like this. As she trekked to the tower, she began running questions through her mind again. 

'Is this the kind of treatment Snape always receives? Is this what it feels like to be a social pariah? I understand why they would treat _me_ like this but why him? He doesn't deserve this kind of treatment...' 

Hermione finally made it to the Astronomy tower, out of breath but only shaking a little. She felt a little bit of cold sweat accompany her stomach twisting in knots. After waiting about thirty minutes, Hermione was beginning to fear that her friend had completely rejected her and changed her mind about talking. After pacing back and forth frantically for several minutes, she finally heard the door open. Pulling together willpower, Hermione slowly turned to face Ginny. 

Only, it wasn't just Ginny. 

Standing there with the petite redhead was none other than Harry and Ron. 

She hadn't expected to see them, but then again, Ginny was flooing to their house every night to be with her new husband. _Of course_ Ginny would have contacted Harry to have him meet at the tower as well, and there was no way Ron would have passed up an explanation. The stony looks she was getting from the three of them, though, was enough to almost make her lose what was left of her nerve. The three approached and stood before her, not saying a word. 

They looked pissed. 

Hermione took a deep breath. "First of all, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was kind of sudden and, well..." 

The three raised an eyebrow at her. She tried again. "Okay, let me start from the beginning. And please let me finish before you hex me to death." 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione started, "You guys know well enough that I haven't been quite... _myself_ this year. Ginny has been around me more, but I'm sure she's kept you informed. The marriage law came as a shock, like it did for everyone. I was certain that my entire academic career had gone to waste. And then things became worse. I hadn't received any post for two weeks after _The Daily Prophet's_ announcement, not even proposals. Then, suddenly one morning, an owl came through my dorm window carrying a letter. It... it was a proposal. From Lucius Malfoy." 

She heard the quick intake of breath from the three, but continued on. "H-he was petitioning for me, and I completely lost it. I-I stormed McGonagall's office and, when I did, she had been talking to Professor Snape. Apparently he had already suspected that someone somehow had control over my petitions. W-when I told them about the letter, Professor McGonagall asked for Professor Snape's help. He had no doubts that... Well, he told me that wh-whatever Lucius had in mind, i-it involved keeping me alive. He... He said that there are much worse things than death." She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from stuttering more. 

"Well... Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore's portrait kind of... well, _collaborated_ , and th-the only logical solution anyone could come up with was... well... Marry him. Professor Snape. He was the only eligible wizard in the s-school, and if Malfoy decides that he wants revenge on me slipping through his fingers, then Professor Snape is also the only person skilled enough who could protect me – " 

"Bollocks! We could have protected you – " 

"Shut up, Ron, and let her finish!" Ginny scolded, hanging onto Hermione's every word. Hermione gave her a grateful look and continued with a little more confidence. 

"I thought everyone had gone mad. But it turns out, Professor Snape had invested so much of his own time trying to help me find a way out, that he had passed up his chance to find a suitable... _partner_. He was in just as much need of a loophole as I was. It was only logical. So, they gave me time to think about it, and I realized that they were right. Professor Snape nor I were very happy with it, but it was better than the alternative. It also meant that I could continue my schooling, and he promised that he wouldn't interfere with my life in any way, and vice versa. It is strictly a marriage of convenience. We'll be using the time we have before graduation to find a way around the... _other_ bit of the law. Other than that, though, we'll be going about our lives as normally as possible. I even have separate rooms from him, and it's quite a sight seeing him actually try and be civil to me. Or what he thinks is civil, anyways." 

Hermione fell silent, looking nervously at her friends like she expected them to spit on her and grind her into the ground. "U-um..." she said in a meek voice, twisting her fingers together almost painfully. "That... That's about it." 

She did not miss the blank looks on her friend's faces, but was surprised when Ron said, "So, you had to shag Snape?" 

She almost wanted to break into a relieved grin, glad that they weren't yelling, but she was still highly embarrassed over the matter of sex, and thinking about it made her feel a little more queasy. Luckily, Ginny came to her rescue. "Ronald Weasley! That is none of your business! Did you not hear anything else she said? In case you didn't, she was one Severus Snape away from becoming Lucius Malfoy's sex doll!" 

The color of Ron's face quickly matched his hair as he mumbled, "Sorry..." 

"So, you're okay with this?" Harry finally decided to speak. 

She nodded slowly. "I really don't have a choice, but no, I was not forced into this." 

"Do you know if Malfoy knows yet?" Ginny asked, deciding that they were in for a long discussion so she conjured a chair to sit. The others followed suit until they were all sitting in a circle. 

"There's a strong possibility that he knew when it happened. If he had control over those petitioning for me, I'd imagine he had to keep constant watch of my list. If not, he certainly found out yesterday morning," Hermione said ruefully, wondering what on Earth made her deserve the attentions of that nasty blond wanker. 

"And _Snape_ , of _all_ people, agreed to this?" Ron asked, deciding to be a bit more tactful with his questions. Ginny had been hurling some pretty mean hexes lately, and he didn't want to inflame her wrath. 

"Like I said, he really had as much choice as me," Hermione responded, giving him a shrug. "He could have either went with me, knowing there was a strong possibility of a confrontation with Malfoy, or he could have left the decision to the Ministry. He... Severus Snape had spent his whole life being forced to do things he didn't want to do all for the sake of doing the right thing in the end. I can imagine that he didn't want to let another part of his life be dictated so strictly. At least, with me, he knew what to expect... For the most part, I guess." 

"Hermione..." Harry said with an air of not knowing if he should ask. "What do your parents think about this?" 

Hermione felt her blood run cold at his awkward question, and her natural defense to that topic kicked in. "It doesn't matter. It's done." 

There was a tense moment of silence before Ginny diverted the topic. "In light of what could have happened, I believe I'm grateful that Professor Snape stepped in. I think we all know enough about Lucius Malfoy to know what would have happened if you were forced to marry him, instead." 

"Yeah," Ron chimed in, shaking his head slightly. "As much as I hate Snape, Malfoy definitely ranks higher on the nastiness scale." 

"But just because he saved you from Malfoy doesn't mean I'm going to like it one bit," Harry said bitterly. 

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "I don't expect you to. It _is_ a pretty bizarre situation. However, it is done and over with, and I'm still going to need my friends. And I hope you guys will forgive me for my recent insanity." 

"Of course, sweetie," Ginny said, giving Hermione a warm smile. "We'll always be your friends. We were all affected by the new law, some were just affected worse than others. And as long as you're not completely miserable, we should have no right to complain otherwise." 

Hermione watched Harry grab his wife's hand and draw it to his lips to kiss it. It made her heart swell sadly. 

"No doubt," Ron agreed. "You'll always be our mate. I mean, we probably wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for you." 

"Yeah, Hermione," Harry said, giving her the first smile she had seen from him all night. "Besides, Snape's going to protect you from Malfoy. You need someone to protect you from Snape." 


	13. The Temporary Fix

Hermione felt incredibly weak and exhausted as she strode back to the dungeons after her night with her friends. However, she was beyond relieved that they accepted what had happened, at least to an extent. Ron was still having trouble keeping his depraved questions to himself, which Hermione would either ignore or he would get reprimanded by Ginny. She made them promise to leave Severus alone, and they only agreed because he had done a great service for their friend. Harry took great care to stress that the only reason he had helped Snape from a lifetime fate of Azkaban was that it would have been what his mother had wanted. By the end of the night, they realized they were cutting the curfew close and decided to make plans to hang out again. 

Two minutes before curfew, Hermione made it to the quarters she shared with Severus. As she walked in, she noticed him in the sitting room reading a book, glass of whiskey at hand. He looked up, and Hermione could tell that he was not pleased. 

"Miss – ah, Hermione," he addressed with a sneer, obviously still getting used to addressing her in an informal fashion. He closed the book and stood. "May I inquire as to your whereabouts this evening?" 

Hermione felt herself shaking slightly, and a sweat had broken out over her brow. Her stomach was churning in the most uncomfortable of ways so she decided to sit down on the leather couch. She felt light headed and dizzy and was confused. She was quite sure he had said he wouldn't interfere with her life. She was back before curfew, so what was his problem? "I had made plans with Ginny. So I could... _explain_ everything to her. She told Harry and Ron so they showed up as well. I didn't think that would be a problem..." 

Snape walked towards her, his billowing robes and tall stature shadowing her with the glow of the firelight. "As much as I detest Potter and Weasley, I do not care that you decide to waste your time with them and Mrs. Potter. I'm much more curious as to why I didn't see you in the Great Hall today. _At all._ " 

Hermione was dumbstruck. _The Great Hall_? 

A thought clicked in her mind and she gasped. "I... I didn't have time this morning. I was actually late to Defense. And I felt so sick and nervous at lunch about talking to Ginny that I decided to get some school work done in the library. When Harry and Ron showed up with Ginny, we ended up losing track of time..." 

Snape curled his lip up in an unpleasant fashion. He swooped down in a crouch, meeting Hermione on eye level. In a dangerously low voice, he growled, "In case you've forgotten, girl, I gave you explicit instructions to stop skipping meals. You already look of death." 

Hermione looked at him with a startled expression. She sprung to her feet and he stood to his full height to glare down at her. She gave him a riled expression and said, "It's not like I could have kept anything down. Other than that, I'm just fine. Remember, Professor, this is only a marriage of convenience. You do not have to worry about me." 

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way to her bedroom door. Just as she grabbed the handle and turned it, a wash of light-headedness overtook her and she slumped forward. The door gave way and she fell forward to the stone floor, unconscious before she even landed. 

xxxxxxxxxxx 

When Hermione awoke, she was immediately aware that someone was tipping a potion down her throat. She coughed and spluttered, sitting up quickly and spilling some of the potion. 

"Dammit, Granger," she heard an ornery voice say. She looked up to see her professor standing there, glaring down at her. 

"I thought we were supposed to have surpassed formalities," she said with as much mustered attitude as possible. She felt horrible. Her stomach cramped, her head pounded and she could feel herself tremble from time to time. 

"Indeed," he said with a sour note. There was quite a long pause, at which Hermione gave him a hard look. He noticed and returned the expression. "I assume you understand why your body failed you." 

Hermione's expression changed to one of desperation. She wanted to play dumb, but she didn't have the energy for it. Nodding glumly, she swept a hand through her snarled curls. The weakness she felt was nothing compared to the pain. 

"Kovu." 

The dark wizard didn't even have the name from his mouth before the tiny house elf popped in. "Masters has summons Kovu?" the little elf asked, making an obvious attempt to stand upright and fighting very hard not to bow. 

Snape nodded to the elf. "Please prepare Madam Snape a tray of broth and crackers." 

"Is Madam still not feeling well?" Kovu squeaked. 

"She will once she's eaten." Snape said it with distaste, and Hermione fixed him with an unamused glower. A little deeper down, however, she was focusing on him calling her "Madam Snape." 

When Kovu popped out, Snape turned his attention back to the young Gryffindor. "If you understand, then there's no need for me to explain the importance of this never happening again. I expect to see you in the Great Hall for every meal unless Kovu informs me that you've taken it here in the dungeons." 

"Are you deaf?" Hermione groaned meekly. "I can't keep anything down anymore. Nothing. It's best you just let me die of starvation..." The pain radiating from her abdomen had reached her limbs and her head, and she was too weak to fight the pain. A small whimper forced its way through past her throat, causing her to squeeze her eyes in frustration. 

"You're not going to die of starvation," he snapped, placing his hand on her shoulder, forcing her back onto the pillow. "That invaluable tonic you just spilt half a phial of was created as a strong nausea suppressant as well as an appetite enhancer and pain reliever. It's derived from the plant, _cannabis sativa_. The active compound, tetrahydrocannabinol, is known for its effectiveness against nausea and loss of appetite. Unfortunately, it's not possible to brew such a potion without keeping some of the more adverse reactions. Though it won't be as intense as it could be, I'm afraid you'll be in a slightly heightened state of euphoria for the next few hours." 

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, daring to crack open her eyes to glance at him. 

Sighing heavily, Snape pinched the bridge of his nose before responding, "You're going to be _high_ for a while. While it's legal in our culture, this substance is frowned upon in many countries because of its mind altering properties. It's a very popular drug, but also only legal for healing purposes." 

Severus smirked when he saw the alarmed looked on Hermione's face. While Hermione was shocked that he would give her a mind-altering substance, she couldn't deny that its gradually increasing effect was somewhat pleasant. She could feel her tensed muscles relaxing, which slowly eased the pain a bit. Her mind became a little hazy, and keeping the same train of thought was becoming more difficult. When she looked at the dark wizard, it almost seemed as if she did so in slow motion. It only took a couple of minutes of feeling the potion's effects before Hermione's stomach made a low rumble. Her cheeks pinkening at her body's demand for food, Hermione tried to hide her face with her hands. 

At that moment, Kovu popped back in with a tray of broth and crackers, which he set to hover over her lap. Snape gave her a menacingly imploring look, at which she slowly picked up the spoon with a shaking hand and delved into her bowl. Giving herself a slow start, she carefully sipped the liquid from the spoon. 

If he hadn't been holding his breath in anticipation of her body rejecting the sustenance, Severus would have burst out laughing at the look overshadowing Hermione's face. She looked like she was eating something for the first time in her life, the delight overwhelmingly obvious on her face. He knew the recreational users of the drug sometimes referred to it as a "flavor enhancer", and he knew first-hand why. The Dark Lord's followers usually imbibed anything that would make them feel good at their soirees, and _Capturam Cannabis_ was frequently used. He was commanded on multiple occasions to toast the potion with his fellow Death Eaters. He had to admit, the draft was quite effective in helping him tolerate that crowd, though he didn't like his inhibitions lowered like that around the Dark Lord. It took several self-training sessions to build his tolerance towards it so he could at least properly Occlude his mind. 

With a small wave of his hand, Severus addressed Kovu, "That will be all, thank you." 

Kovu stood straight with a sloppy salute. "Kovu lives to serve Master." With a pop, he was gone. 

Snape turned his attention back to Hermione, who was munching gleefully on a cracker. When she showed no signs of rejection he breathed a little easier, but he knew he needed to observe her for the next hour or so to make sure. Knowing it was useless to really threaten her, he still felt he needed to let her know. 

"I am not an overbearing person, Hermione." At those words, she paused and looked at him, her glazed expression showing slight panic. He continued, "I do not enjoy it. However, if you insist I make things difficult, I can make them very difficult, indeed. Do not push me." 

Suddenly through the haze, Hermione remembered their conversation from the previous night and couldn't stop herself as she blurted, "Did you have an eating disorder, too?" 

She immediately regretted asking and clamped her hands over her mouth. She noticed that he paused and then slowly turned to face her. He gave her an unusual look, one that seemed to be a mixture of indifference and intrigue. 

"I do not believe in eating disorders, Hermione. Eating disorders are a label that muggle society uses to brand others as different. A girl that is skin and bone for dilettante purposes is not sick, only daftly superficial. Yes, I use to be severely underweight, but stress and pain has that effect on certain people. Just as yours has." He noted her questioning look and elaborated, "You are a highly intelligent young witch. You know it is beneath you to lower yourself to starvation for the sake of your appearance." 

She blinked at him, surprised at his confession. "When did you do it? Overcome it, I mean." 

Snape sat back and folded his arms. He looked down his nose at her, contemplating the right words. "It was just after I was released from Azkaban. Asides from the pain that I continue to struggle with, I had finally withdrawn myself from my stressful situation. With the Dark Lord and Albus gone, and no Dementors to suck out the little joy I carried of that mad man's demise, I was finally able to maintain a regular health schedule. The physical rehabilitation was a complete pain in the ass, but it helped ease my recurring pain and assisted my body to a normal weight." 

There was silence in the room as Hermione ran his words through her mind. So he was still plagued by his past through Nagini's venom. She had never seen him act as though he were in pain. However, she realized she had hardly spent more than a few minutes at a time with the man. She supposed it was better that way, but it still worried her that it continued to affect him. 

"How long will you have to deal with pain? From Nagini's bite?" she asked tentatively. Biting her lip, she looked down at her empty soup bowl. 

He was silent for only a moment before he said, "I am honestly unsure. Nagini was one of a kind. She used to be a Burmese python, which are not supposed to be venomous. The magic she shared with the Dark Lord in order to keep him alive, however, transformed her from a common python into a whole other dark, magical creature. The Dark Lord was entirely too paranoid of her to ever allow me a chance to study her, and no one else has ever survived one of her attacks. I am at the mercy of fate and the unknown. I can only do my best with the tonics I've devised." 

Hermione nodded, realizing she was chewing on her nails. She grimaced and slowly pulled her hand away, hoping he hadn't noticed. Not really talking to him, she mumbled, "Maybe _that's_ what I'll do during the holidays..." The warm, fuzzy feeling of the potion had made her chatty, and for once the dour wizard before her was being cooperative. 

Snape snorted derisively at her statement. "Hardly. Speaking of, what _are_ your plans for the holidays?" 

Brushing a curl behind her ear, she answered, "I... I suppose my plan was to stay here." 

"Why?" 

Hermione mental balance was thrown off by his blunt questioning, but at least he was talking to her and not yelling. "Be-because, my parents will be g-gone. On vacation. To France." 

"You won't be joining them?" he pried. 

Hermione tried to push away the fuzziness so she could think more clearly. It was difficult, almost impossible. Giving up, she tried offering, "No. I need to study for my N.E.W.T.s. They understand." 

Severus scrutinized the frail young woman, not believing her for a second. There was something she wasn't telling him, and it obviously involved her family. "Tell me, Hermione, what do your parents think of all this? This marriage law business and marrying your professor?" 

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione went on the defensive. "Are you trying to use my lowered inhibitions to get answers for something?" 

Severus smirked, folding his arms across his chest. "It was not my original intent. However, I find it quite useful in getting you to talk." 

"Well my parents are fine with everything," Hermione quipped sharply. "They know what's going on and they knew I had no choice in all this and are grateful I didn't end up with the sadistic pervert. Happy?" 

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Severus suppressed a growl. He knew she was lying through her teeth, but it was obvious that the subject of her parents was a very sore topic that she chose to avoid answering truthfully, even while inhibited. "Very well, then," he huffed, standing. "I daresay it's been over an hour and you don't seem to be feeling ill. I suppose we will have to make this a recurring evening event until we can find a permanent solution to your intake problem. Now, if you will excuse me, it is late and I have classes tomorrow morning. You, however, will be staying here." 

Hermione started to protest, "But I have to – " 

" – You fell out today, girl!" he snapped. "Or did you forget? As such, I cannot allow you to return to class until you are well enough to. Until such time, you will remain on bed rest. I will see to it that Kovu brings you adequate meals. You will not return to class until you've shown improvement. You're lucky that I decided not to involve Madam Pomfrey, but if you continue to disobey me on this, I will have no choice." He paused once more before adding, "And referring to your comment before your collapse – even though this _is_ a marriage of convenience, I'm still required to tend to your health. The last thing I need is the Headmistress hexing me because I allowed one of her cubs to bring harm to herself." 

With that, the dour man left the room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione was startled, and knew that he was suspicious. She knew he was angry because she had outright lied to his face, and he knew it. What confused her is why he didn't call her out on it. It worried her to no end, but the only thing she could do at the moment was settle into her sheets and sleep. She assumed by the extreme state of her health that it would most likely be the next semester before she was permitted back to class. 

xxxxxxxxxxx 

At two in the morning, Severus sat in front of the fireplace in his room nursing a bottle of firewhiskey. He was never one to get so brazenly drunk, though he knew how to pace himself quite well. His tolerance was well above average, but the bottle that he clung to was two-thirds the way gone. Staring blankly into the fire, his muddled mind found solace behind the alcohol. The fire crackled happily, which didn't help his mood. Standing, he stretched, maintaining his balance quite well for someone who had imbibed as much as he had. Severus stood in that one spot, staring deeply into the burning pit, trying desperately to concentrate on not thinking about anything. It had been working so far, and he hoped it meant that he could rest well that night. 

Deciding to take advantage of his relatively calm mind, he changed into his night clothes before padding into his bathroom to brush his teeth. Right as he passed through the doorway, he heard what sounded like a faint yell. Hairs stood on the back of his neck, and he immediately knew it was her. 

Severus made his way to her room quickly and opened the door. It was dark, only the glowing embers of the dying fire to light the room. He heard a muffled whine come from her, and saw she was still in her bed. Her curls surrounded her face, and she twitched here and there. It was obvious then that she was asleep and having nightmares. Severus listened to her for a moment, hearing her slumbering form's quiet complaints. 

" _I'm sorry... It's my fault... I'm so sorry... Don't... Don't do this..."_

Severus heard this but did not smirk like he would at anyone else' expense. He understood far too well the ordeal of night terrors. 

After only a couple of moments, she quieted down, at which Severus quickly made his leave. He refused to spy on her. He had checked on her, she was okay for lack of a better word, his job was done. 

Well, so much for restful sleep. 


	14. The Visit

Hermione was forced to choke down very small amounts of bland food for breakfast and lunch under the watchful eye of Kovu. She even fought the urge to let it come back up, but it was a losing battle without the potion Snape had given her the night before. As much as it made her uneasy being "high", as he called it, it was definitely effective at getting her to eat. She couldn't believe how incredible broth and crackers could be after months of food being disgusting to her. 

After her customary "I tried but it didn't work" purge, it was much more difficult than Hermione had expected to just sit around and not have anything to do. Of course, it only lasted until classes were over when she heard very loud knocking coming from the main entrance. 

When she walked through the sitting room towards the door, she noted that the Potions Master was not back yet. She felt slightly relieved when she opened the door to see Harry, Ron and Ginny. 

"Is he holding you captive or something?" was the first question out of Ron's mouth. 

"Ron!" Ginny scolded, smacking him hard on the arm. "Don't say things like that." Turning her attention back to Hermione, she asked, "May we come in?" 

"Oh! Of course!" Hermione said hurriedly, stepping aside and letting them in. She led them through the sitting room to get to her room. 

"Whoa, you think the bloke has enough to read?" Ron asked, looking around at all the books. He reached out to touch one on the mantle when Ginny slapped his hand away. 

"Ow!" 

"Ron!" she scolded loudly again. "What did I tell you before we got here? Don't touch anything and don't ask stupid questions!" 

"Alright! Fine! Just stop with the manhandling..." he said grumpily, nursing his hand. Hermione allowed them into her room and conjured up two more chairs and situated them by the fire. Thinking to herself, she suddenly wished she had some tea to serve. 

Hermione didn't want to stoop to the level of using a house elf. After all of her work with trying to free them, she didn't want to be a hypocrite. However, she did not miss how utterly happy Kovu seemed to be, and Severus did not seem to treat him badly at all. But, how did she even know that Kovu would do it? Maybe he only answered to Severus. However, he _was_ her husband, so she hesitantly guessed that wouldn't hurt to give it a try. 

"Um... K-Kovu." 

A small _pop_ announced the little elf's arrival. "Yes, Madam Snape?" he inquired, bowing lowly. 

"Um, oh, please don't bow to me. Er, the salute is just fine. Um, would you be able to retrieve some tea and biscuits? I... I mean, if you can." She swallowed thickly, clearly not liking making a request, which house elves took as orders. 

"Master Snape has instructed Kovu to allow whatever sustenance Madam requires," the elf said happily. Without another moment, he popped out and popped back in, carrying a tray of steaming tea and biscuits. He set it on the coffee table and addressed Hermione again. "Is Madam requiring anything else?" 

"Um, no, that's lovely, Kovu. Thank you." 

The elf gave her his little salute and popped out. Everyone sat and stared dumbly at Hermione. 

"What?" 

Harry spoke up first. "Are you okay, Hermione? Like, really okay? Cause the last time I checked, you were goin' barmy over house elves – " 

Hermione laughed lightly and took her seat. She grabbed a biscuit and made an effort to choke down small bits, the tea helping her a lot. "It's not like that." 

"Okay, what's it like?" Ginny asked. "Why did you miss your classes today?" 

Hermione took another long sip of her tea before answering. "Is that why Harry and Ron are here? Geez, you two shouldn't have come all the way here for missing one day of class." Knowing she was avoiding the questioned, she added, "I've been sick, recently. Nothing serious. Just bad enough that I can't attend classes, probably until after the Christmas holidays." 

Ron scooted his chair away from her. She scoffed at him. "Oh, _please_ , Ronald. If it were contagious I wouldn't have let you in." 

He eyed her up and down before settling back in his seat. "So the Bat of the Dungeons _does_ have you locked up." 

"RON!" Ginny yelled, smacking him in the forehead with her palm. "Where the hell is the filter for your mouth?" 

Harry was almost doubled over laughing and Hermione was finding it hard not to smile, even if Ron _was_ being rude. She had sorely missed moments like those, where her and her friends could be completely inappropriate and just spend time together, like the previous two years had never happened. 

"I'm sure what _Ronald_ ," Ginny said his name with a growl, "meant to say was, are you missing class because of you or because of Professor Snape?" 

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Both, really. It's my fault that I'm so ill, and he's all Gung-ho about making sure no one thinks that I'm being mistreated. It's by his orders that I miss class, but he's been kind enough to not involve Madam Pomfrey. With her, I'd probably spend three months in the hospital wing." 

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked, wincing slightly as Ginny gave him a warning glare. 

"It's nothing to worry about. It's only some silly muggle-borne illness that just needs time to go away. I'll be okay." Hermione was not ready to explain to her friends her issue with her weight, and she wasn't sure if she was ever _going_ to. 

Harry looked very unconvinced, having been raised in the muggle world. "If you say so." 

"Hermione, what are you doing for the holidays?" Ginny asked, diverting the conversation. 

Hermione shrugged, sipping her tea while trying to not make a face at the taste. "I planned on staying here. N.E.W.T.s and all. It'll be nice to have that much unhindered time." 

"Well," Ron cut in, swallowing his mouth full of biscuit. "If you want, you can come to the Burrow. I mean, I know you're sick and all, but if you think you're well enough, and the old Ba – er, Snape isn't a complete dick –" 

"Ron, I'm going to _kill_ you before the end of the night," Ginny hissed at him. Ron shut up and gave her a sheepish look. 

Composing herself, Ginny addressed Hermione again. "Yeah," she said. "Harry and I will be staying in Grimmauld Place and we'll be visiting Christmas day. You should come too." 

"Yeah," Harry said, grabbing his young wife's hand. "I can't imagine Snape celebrates Christmas. You should come, if only for a couple of hours." 

Hermione tried to give them a smile. "I'll talk to him and see what he thinks. I will most definitely try whether he allows it or not." 

xxxxx 

Snape scoffed at his wife's ignorance. He could hear her and her friends plain as day from her room while he was trying to relax in the sitting room. He hadn't realized until that point how much the sound carried from her room, but he assumed it was that his subconscious paranoid magic had accidentally enhanced the noise from that room for security reasons. However, it was not a perk he disliked. He did like to know what was going on around him, after all. 

He removed himself to his private lab, checking on the two bubbling cauldrons he had had simmering for two weeks. In another two, he could finally diminish the flames and add the final ingredient. They did need to be checked once a day, however, and he used that time to also reinforce his _Impervius_ charm over the cauldron, making sure that nothing, not even dust particles, could interfere. It was a very delicate potion, one that Severus had been working on to rid himself of his ailments due to Nagini. The potion required 'a little hair of the dog that bit you,' so to speak, so needless to say that Nagini's venom was invaluable, and he could not afford to waste it. 

When Severus heard the three Gryffindors leave, he decided to make his appearance to Hermione, who was shutting the door behind her friends. 

"Whether I allow it or not, Hermione?" he inquired, startling her and making her spin to face him. 

"Christ, you nearly scared the life out of me!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest with one hand and gripping her wand very tightly with the other. 

"My apologies," he said dryly. "So, what is this I hear about 'whether he allows it or not?'" 

Hermione's face turned three shades of red before responding, "Were you _spying_ on me?" 

Severus gave an exasperated sigh. "Gran – Hermione, I have better things to do than spy on a teenage girl and her nuisance friends. Unfortunately, you four were loud enough that the Great Hall could hear you. Now, answer me." 

Hermione bit her lip as her cheeks flushed. "For your information, I'm twenty years old! Hardly a teenager. And I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I was going to try and go. I presume a couple of hours wouldn't kill me, and there remains a couple of weeks until then. I still have time to improve." 

Severus stared her down hard, making her cringe slightly. "Very well," he said in a clipped tone. " _Only_ if you're showing improvement. Kovu informed me that you did try and eat today, even if you were unsuccessful. I'm going to administer another dose of the potion from yesterday so you can at least have one decent meal today. It seems it's our only option to give you proper nourishment, so this routine may be all we can work with, at least for a few weeks. However, you are to only receive the potion _here_ , where I can keep an eye on you. Minerva will have my head if I let her cub roam the grounds high as a kite." 

Hermione gave Severus a small smile, which was the first semblance of a real smile he had seen her wear since before the whole charade had started. "Thank you... Severus." 

She turned and made her way to her room. Just as her hand reached the handle of her door, she heard him say, "Hermione." 

She craned her head to face him. He was giving her a somber look. "When I give you instructions, it is not because I'm being domineering. There are many dangerous things in this world, including yourself. I cannot protect you from everything, but when I _do_ give you instructions, know that it is with good reason. Otherwise, I would not bother." 

Hermione nodded, knowing too well what he meant about being dangerous to herself. 

xxxxx 

The next few weeks went by frustratingly slow, and Hermione was finding her schoolwork unfulfilling. She had even re-revised for her N.E.W.T.s five times. She had taken to writing and researching snake bites and crossed referenced with books on magical creatures. She knew that Nagini was one of a kind, but that didn't mean she couldn't try and put together _some_ kind of information on the subject. She was very curious. There were only twelve documented animals in history that had ever developed magical powers without being born with them, and three of them were caused by horcruxes. Hermione found that fact very intriguing and requested access to Snape's books so she could research further. When she asked, all she got was a strange look and a half-hearted nod on his behalf. Well, it was good enough for her. 

The last day of classes before break, Hermione was almost to the point of pulling out her hair. She was disturbed to say that she was sick of looking at books! The only other time she had been so solitary was when she was in the hospital wing for turning herself into a cat, and even then she had had more interaction with people. 

It was only eleven in the morning, and Hermione decided that she was in desperate need of some fresh air. She bundled up under cloak and found her thickest pair of boots to wear. After she had geared up completely, she made her way out of the dungeons and through the castle, exiting through the Entrance Hall. Once she was on the grounds, she let her feet take her where they liked, just glad to get some good exercise. She felt much better already, though still a bit weak. The air was much colder than it had been the last time she went out, but she didn't mind. It was better than the stale dungeon air she had been experiencing. Before Hermione knew it, her feet had dragged her around the lake and around the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She decided to take herself back inside and up the steps, all the way to the Astronomy Tower. She enjoyed the view, and no one was likely to bother her there during the day. She walked to the edge and perched herself there, dangling her feet over the edge like she normally liked to do. She sat there for what seemed like hours, just taking in the beauty of the Scotland landscape and allowing her mind to be completely clear. 

She didn't notice the door open, so she nearly screamed when she heard a voice behind her. 

"Good evening, Madam Snape..." 

Hermione rolled over quickly to turn around, coming face to face with the last person she needed to be near. 

"Lucius." 


	15. The Dilemma

Hermione immediately felt her pockets, gripping the sleek wood of her wand. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the blooding pumping furiously through her, making her tremble. Trying to pull together a strong voice, she asked, "What are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?" 

"Ah, can't have you hexing me just because I want to chit chat," he chuckled at her pitiful display. With a quick flick of his wand, Hermione's was ripped from her hand, landing with a clatter close to the door. "I was paying a visit to an old friend. I decided that I had yet to congratulate you on your... Impromptu marriage," Lucius said with a curled lip. He stepped forward, and Hermione stepped back. He reached forward and grasped her hand, pulling it up so he could bend and press his lips against the soft skin of the back of her hand. Hermione was frozen in place, her eyes wide. Her skin tingled when he removed his lips and moved closer, standing tall over her. "It was such a shame you did not accept my offer." 

"Don't act as though I'm daft, Mr. Malfoy," she growled, snatching back her hand and taking a quick step backwards. She was close to being completely cornered, with the edge of the tower drawing closer with every step. "Everyone knows you despise muggleborns. What do you want with me?" 

He advanced towards her two more steps until they were both perched precariously at the edge of the tower. Hermione couldn't control her trembling, both out of fear and anticipation. She was prepapared, if she needed to, to jump. Wandless be damned, she would take death easily over torture. 

"Tsk tsk, Madam. Such hostility and paranoia," Lucius sneered. He slowly ran a finger idly down the sleeve of her school robe. Hermione cringed on the inside, repulsed by his touch. 

"I told you in my proposal letter," he said in a dangerously low voice. His silken aristocratic tone was doing its best to persuade her, but all she felt was fear. "I have changed. You could have had a life of luxury with me. I remain fairly wealthy." 

"You would have locked me in your dungeon to torture me, more like," Hermione spat. She was extremely uncomfortable with how close the blond wizard had become, almost pressing against her. She could feel his warm breath on her face, and it misted in the cold air around her. She fought the urge to heave. 

"Come now, torture is beneath me." 

"Don't try to bullshit me, Malfoy," she said with a quiver in her voice. "Don't act as though you didn't stand there and watch as your crazy bitch of a sister-in-law carved _this_ into my arm." She pulled the sleeve of her robe up, revealing the word "mudblood" etched permanently into her very thin arm. She didn't miss the rather elated expression that quickly passed over Malfoy's face before he masked it. "I said torture is beneath _me_. Bella was an entity of her own." With a miniscule smirk, he added, "Nonetheless, I was under the Imperius curse at the time. I do not remember this event." 

Suddenly, his arms shot out and closed around her, binding her arms and pulling her flush against him. She gasped and immediately struggled, preferring to leap to her death than have his filthy hands on her. He held her strong and leaned down to whisper very lowly, almost sensuously into her ear. "I do intend to have you. I _need_ you." 

Hermione panicked suddenly and surprised herself by drawing her knee up full force and making direct contact with Lucius' groin. He immediately let out a groan with a puff of breath and went down to one knee, allowing her to brush past him and run to the door. She snatched up her wand and took off through the door, which slammed open for her magically. She ran as fast as she could until she was out of breath on the second floor. She disappeared into the nearby prefects bathroom to catch her breath and hide. 

Her heart was racing ninety miles an hour, and she felt slightly dizzy. What was wrong with that man? What did he want with her? She knew the first thing she needed to do was let Severus know what had happened. However, she was rather torn about whether she wanted to. On the one hand, she didn't want to burden him more than she already had. On the other, wasn't that the reason they had to get married in the first place? So he could deal with Lucius? It was confusing to her, but she knew she had no choice but to tell him. Picking herself up off the floor, she brushed herself off and began making her way to the dungeons. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx 

A couple of hours earlier, a knock resounded on the front door to Severus' chambers, quaint and quick. Though Severus was in his private lab, he could hear the knocks loud and clear and he immediately knew who was gracing him with their presence. Only one person could make a knock sound so jovially evil. 

Severus crossed the sitting room and threw a glance at Hermione's door. He assumed she was in there either sleeping or studying. He was honestly surprised at how much he didn't notice that she was there at all. She kept to herself a lot, but, then again, he was her only company, so he couldn't blame her for her preference of solitude. 

Returning his thoughts to his visitor, he swung the thick dungeon door open to reveal an impeccably dressed Lucius Malfoy, standing proudly as he always had. He gave a faux smile with an underlying dark twist, which did not go unnoticed by Severus. "Good afternoon, Severus. So sorry for dropping by unannounced." 

Severus lip immediately curled in resentment. "What do I owe this displeasure, Malfoy?" 

Lucius laughed haughtily, but there remained a sneaky glint in his eye. "Oh, dear Severus. We were friends for so long. Is this how you treat an old friend?" 

"In case you've forgotten, Lucius, I betrayed all of your kind," Severus said coolly. The only respect he held for the man before him was for his superb dueling skills, in which Severus still outmatched him. He was no longer the secretive spy whose life was in the hands of a mad man, so he no longer wished to tolerate any of the infidels that were insane enough to confront him about his betrayal. "And it was not by accident. I despise you and everything you stand for. Now, if you will please remove yourself from my doorway, I have a lot of work that needs to be done." 

As Severus began to close the door, Lucius stopped it with his cane and pushed it back open. 

"So," Lucius said, very aware that the man before him was on the verge of drawing his wand. "You're not willing to help out an old friend? Remember, you used to participate in the revels as well." 

Severus was having a difficult time not cursing the man before him, and his nerves were already teetering on the edge. "No. And if you recall correctly, I was required to participate if I wanted the Dark Lord's trust, just so I could bring about his fall." The last part he ended with a sneer. "However, you were _Imperiused,_ were you not? One under Imperius shouldn't be able to remember such revels. Now please leave before I lose my temper." Severus gripped his wand tightly, his jawed clenched tightly. 

Lucius swallowed an indignant huff and raised an eyebrow at the dark wizard. "You don't even care to know what I'm asking?" 

"Not particularly," Severus countered quickly, his tone ice cold. 

"Well," Lucius said, feigning offense. Changing his demeanor, he gave a devilish grin. "Perhaps your little Gryffindor bride might be capable. She is such a _brilliant_ witch, after all." 

Severus tensed and threw a quick glance at Hermione's door before fixing Lucius with a glare. "I assure you, she holds no interest in helping you. And even if she did, I don't believe I would allow it. I wouldn't want my _wife_ to consort with the wrong kind of wizards." 

"Do not forget, Severus, that you were once a part of the wrong kind of wizards. You were one of us, and contributed just as much, even if you had different motives. It doesn't make your crime any less..." 

"It's just a potion," Lucius tried again, obviously not happy with Severus' silence. "Just a simple potion." 

"If it is so simple then brew it yourself, Lucius!" Severus snapped. "Or have you become that much of a squib from always forcing others to do your bidding? Do not visit me again, and do not attempt contact with my wife, either. You have no more business with me. Good day, Lucius." 

With that, Severus shut the door closed forcefully, causing Lucius to stumble backwards and out of sight. The Potions Master stood at the door for a moment more, seething. He had been very close to cursing the daft blond wizard, and it had been an itch he had wanted to scratch for a number of years. However, dueling in the dungeons while there were still students milling around the school preparing to leave was not something he could risk. After all, he could have very well killed the man. 

Letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, Severus shook his head lightly and returned to his private lab to clean up. He took special care to clean everything by hand, which always worked better than with magic. The focus he used for his meticulous cleaning also served to placate his pent up anger and frustration. After putting away all of his ingredients and insuring that his potions were well on their way to curing without being disturbed, he settled into his sitting room next to the fire with a glass of whiskey. He sat there for nearly an hour, going over his conversation with Lucius. He caught his gaze wandering to Hermione's door every so often, wondering if she had heard anything. If the girl was any kind of intelligent, she would know better than to agree to help Malfoy in any way. She had already expressed her morbid dislike for the man, so Severus knew he shouldn't have to warn her. 

Severus felt his wards suddenly spike, at which he stood up quickly. His door was thrown open to reveal a very flustered Hermione. 

"Hermione, what in the blazes? I thought you were in your room!" Severus snarled, immediately alarmed by her obvious distress. He was also alarmed by a strange, almost miniscule shift her aura had taken. He had been living with her long enough to be accustomed to it, and it wasn't a new element being added. It was as if something had made whatever it was stronger in her, to the point he could pick up on it easily if he tried. When he saw her for the first time that school year, he had assumed whatever element it was was probably just the scarring of her aura after the war. 

"I'm... I'm sorry..." she huffed out, trying to catch her breath. "I just wanted... to go for a walk..." 

"Catch your breath, girl, _then_ tell me what's going on," he growled, motioning quickly for her to sit down on the sofa. 

She crossed the room to the sofa and sat quickly, taking several deep breaths to get oxygen back in her blood. Severus stood next to the fire waiting patiently as she regained her composure. 

After a minute or two of the sound of her breathing, she finally took a final deep breath and started. 

"I'm sorry. I just went for a walk. This stale dungeon air was suffocating me. So I walked around the grounds and decided to spend some time on top of the Astronomy Tower in the fresh air. Well, Lucius found me up there..." Her voice tapered off, waiting for his next obvious question. 

Severus let the statement settle for a second before he responded in an even voice, "What did he do?" 

"H-he, um... Well, I think it'd be easier... ya know, for you to just look. If you don't mind. I-I can't describe it." Hermione wasn't really sure she wanted him prodding around her mind, but she was sure he would only look at what she chose to show him. She didn't think she could even put into words what had happened. Severus solemnly nodded and readied his wand. 

Hermione looked him in his deep onyx eyes, slightly scared, and felt the gentle intrusion of her mind as he whispered, " _Legilimens_..." 

She began thinking about what had happened with Lucius to bring the thought to the forefront of her mind. She felt the revulsion again when she saw him touch her, and was sure she could feels Severus' revulsion as well. When the memory was over, Severus withdrew from her mind with a calm expression, though she could tell he wasn't okay at all. 

"And you came straight here? No one else saw you?" were his first questions. 

"I stopped on the second floor to catch my breath, but after that I ran straight here. I don't think anyone saw me. _Or_ him." Hermione was put off a little by the strange questions. 

Severus sighed and sat in his chair once again, picking up his abandoned glass of whiskey and downing it in one go. "Damn. I knew I should have done away with him while he was here!" he hissed angrily through clenched teeth, throwing his glass into the fireplace and effectively smashing it. 

Hermione recoiled at the sound of shattering glass. Her mind reeled at the thought of Lucius being there, and Severus had kept his temper fairly well since their whole charade had started, so it frightened her a little to see him so angry. She felt stupid, remembering that Lucius had said he was visiting an old friend. She should have known it was Severus. "What did he want?" 

"I'm not really sure," Severus grumbled, conjuring a new glass and filling it. "A potion is what he insisted was the reason. I didn't give him much of an opportunity to elaborate before I said no. I've wasted enough of my life doing favors for that man." He took a big gulp from his glass, not even wincing slightly at the burning liquid. "And the whole bloody time, I thought you were in your room. I'm surprised he didn't Bind you and whisk you away to _his_ dungeons." 

Hermione shivered at the idea. "I was prepared to leap to my death first," she said soberly. 

Severus couldn't argue with her on that, the memory he viewed showing as much. Trying to reign in his anger, he took another swallow from his glass. He couldn't get the image of Lucius bearing down on her out of his mind. "I suppose the physical tactic you used was a muggle thing?" he asked, referring to her incredible crushing of Lucius' privates. 

Hermione couldn't help but crack a small smile. "My mother enrolled me in a martial arts class at a young age to learn basic self defense. That was lesson number one." She smiled a moment more before the thought of her mother began to hurt. Tearing her eyes away from the man next to the fireplace, she took a decided interest in her folded hands. 

Severus gave her a hard stare. She felt nervous under his gaze and had a feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her. After another moment of scrutiny, he turned his look towards the fireplace. "I'm going to advise that you inform me if you intend to leave the dungeons again. Though I am a Head of House, I do not have the ability to ban people from the castle or grounds. Even if Minerva tried, we wouldn't have solid proof of why Malfoy Sr. should not visit the grounds." 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Severus continued, "Your memory won't be enough. Not against him, who still has every connection he needs within the Ministry. I believe it would be best if you do not go anywhere alone for a while. Over the holidays, I highly suggest that you not wander from the dungeons. When school resumes, use Ginerva as an escort if need be. I understand your Head Girl position requires you to attend Hogsmeade but I must insist you be escorted." 

His speech was followed by quiet contemplation. Neither spoke as they both stared into the fire, minds finally slowing down from having to deal with Malfoy. Then it suddenly struck Hermione as odd that Severus had called Ginny 'Ginerva,' when he would normally address her as Miss. Weasley (or in the current case, Mrs. Potter). She had never known him to use formal names with students. But then, when she thought about it, Ginny had told Hermione about the few small counseling sessions she had had to endure with the professor after her possession by Tom Riddle's diary. Severus Snape was apparently the only teacher experienced enough with dark magic to help her. Hermione felt that Severus had just a tiny bit more respect for Ginny than he let on. 

After sitting in silence for a few moments longer, Hermione finally stood slowly. "Well, I suppose I'll be going to my room then. I'm rather tired." 

"Have you eaten today?" he asked, not wanting to sound overbearing. 

She shook her head no at him, knowing of the futility in lying to him. 

Severus nodded towards her, not even looking at her. "Kovu will bring you your potion and something to eat. It's obvious we've made progress using the potion, but we can't use it forever. We'll need to come up with something soon." 

Hermione nodded silently, agreeing with him. Turning back, she made her way to her bedroom and paused when she heard him speak. 

"And my apologies for allowing that to happen." 

Hermione turned quickly to see him staring at her. "What?" 

Severus cleared his throat and downed the rest of his glass. "I do not apologize twice. I should have escorted him from the grounds. The man is criminally insane, and had I known you were not safe in your room, I wouldn't have let him roam the grounds alone. Once Lucius Malfoy sets his sights on something he really wants – for whatever purpose – the man is almost impossible to sate. I can assure you that it will not happen again." 

Hermione couldn't really think of what to say, so she simply nodded and disappeared into her room. 

Severus did not sleep that night. 


	16. The Aura

The next day, as the students began to abandon the castle in pursuit of their holidays, Hermione met with Ginny at the carriage pickup line to say goodbye. To her surprise, Harry and Ron were there with, much to Hermione's dismay, Lavender. 

"Hi, Ginny. Harry, Ron, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, thinking it was a little odd. 

Harry, Ginny, and Ron all three greeted her, but all she got from Lavender was steely glare. Harry decided to explain, "We came to pick up Lavender and Ginny. We're going to apparate them home with us rather than wait for them to use the carriages and train." 

The slight blush on Harry's face told her that he was slightly embarrassed of this sweet side of him, and Hermione couldn't help but envy how muh he adored his wife. Hermione had really wanted to have a private chat with Ginny about what had happened with Lucius, and she could tell Ron and Harry, too, but she really didn't want to open that can of flubberworms right before their holidays. In any case, she definitely didn't want to speak openly about it in front of Lavender, who was still grudging on Hermione for Ron's past feelings about her. They chatted for a few minutes as they waited for the carriages to arrive before saying their farewells, Hermione promising to visit on Christmas day. 

When she entered the sitting room in the dungeons, she noticed that Severus was sitting in his usual chair with a book in his lap. 

"Oh, hello," was all she could think to say. 

He looked up and nodded his head towards her in acknowledgment. 

He was staring at her rather thoroughly, which made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She shut the door gently behind her and began to casually make her way to her room. She couldn't believe how awkward it was being around her own husband. 

"Hermione, I believe I need a word with you for a moment." 

Hermione froze, not sure if she liked the tone in his voice. She turned slowly and walked to the couch, sitting down. "Is something wrong? Did Malfoy come back?" she asked, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice. 

Severus scoffed, "No. I have a feeling he won't come back _here_ anytime soon. I wanted to ask you something, really. Something about auras. Do you know anything about auras?" 

Hermione nodded her head slightly, wondering why in the _world_ Severus Snape was asking her about _auras_. "A little bit. I got to the understanding of chakras and never really went deeper into the subject." 

"Well," Severus said. "I detected something in your aura yesterday. Something unusual." 

"M... _My_ aura?" Hermione asked, completely shocked that it was about her. 

"Yes. Now, you understand that there are differences between visual, spiritual auras and auras of magical force, do you not?" 

Hermione nodded once again with her eyebrows drawn together, clueless as to where their conversation was going. "Magical auras can only be felt, not seen." 

"Good," Severus said, going into teacher mode. Closing his book, he set it on his side table and stood. Standing in front of the fire, he clasped his hands behind his back and continued. "When I felt your magical aura for the first time after the war, I noticed a miniscule cloudy addition to it. It was barely noticeable, and there are very few wizards that exist that could have picked up on it. I assumed it could have been scarring leftover from the war. You wouldn't have been the only witch or wizard I've run into recently whose magical aura was scarred." 

Hermione was slightly surprised, to say the least. Her magical aura? _Scarred_? 

Severus continued, "However, something changed yesterday." 

"Ch-changed?" she asked, not liking what he was telling her. What could change her aura? Especially within a day? 

"Yes," Severus said, nodding with as blank a look he could muster. "It appears that the murky blot that has become part of your magical aura has shifted. It didn't necessarily grow, per say, it just became more noticeable. Almost as though it were renewed." 

There was a long silence that filled the room. Hermione had never given a second thought to her magical aura. But then again, she was raised by muggles who believed auras were for nut jobs and gypsies. So what was wrong with her? What was this mysterious change in her aura? Did it affect her? _Had_ it been affecting her? She wasn't sure what questions she needed to ask first. 

"It's obviously not scarring," she heard him say in contemplation. She looked up to see him staring intensely at her, but not really looking at her. She knew he was reaching out and feeling her aura, searching every aspect of it, and it made her flush slightly at the intimacy. He continued, "Scarring doesn't just shift randomly, so unless there was some kind of second life-altering war that occurred in the past couple of days that I was unaware of, it wouldn't make sense to be scars." 

Hermione nodded slightly absently in agreement. Yes, she had been slightly shaken up when Lucius had cornered her, but it wasn't near as devastating as anything else she had been through. It definitely hadn't been "life-altering." "Did... Did Malfoy _do_ something to me?" 

The look on Severus' face was enough to tell her that it could have very well been the blond wizard. "Possibly. Did you have any contact with him after the Dark Lord's fall?" 

She shook her head solemnly. "Not that I'm aware of." Biting her lip, she thought hard for a moment. The most that had happened after the war was the turn her life took when she retrieved her parents from Australia. Malfoy couldn't have had any part in that. 

Severus frowned in thought for a moment as Hermione watched. She didn't realize that she was staring at him, being quite taken with the soft glow the firelight cast on him. It was then that she realized that he wasn't wearing his teaching robes, but a long-sleeved black button-down shirt with black slacks. The ensemble made his form more defined, and she could see that he carried more muscle than she remembered. Realizing that she was thinking inappropriately, she shook her head and noticed he was staring at her again. 

"Perhaps," he said slowly, not taking his eyes from her, "I should do a bit more research. We can discuss this more at a later time when I've gathered more information." 

Hermione's eyes brightened a little as she perked up slightly. "Research?" 

Severus gave her a glare. "Don't act so excited. I think it's best that I do this alone." 

Hermione immediately bristled. Standing up swiftly, she said, "With all due respect, _sir_ , if this has to do with me, then I believe I should be allowed to assist in the research. Besides, I have absolutely nothing else to do. You refuse to let me leave the dungeons without my friends' accompaniment, and they just left for the holidays. All of my schoolwork is done, and I've already revised for my N.E.W.T.s thirteen times! What else am I supposed to do?" 

Severus glowered at her, knowing she was right. She held full right to be involved with research concerning herself. 

"Very well, then. If you will excuse me, Madam, I must scour my private library. I will have Kovu deliver some books for you to start looking in once he's back from the infirmary." 

"Infirmary?" 

Severus nodded once. "He acquired a severe burn on his neck and my stock of burn salve is exhausted. I instructed him to visit Madam Pomfrey." 

Hermione brought her hand to her mouth in slight shock. "Is he okay? What happened?" 

Severus gave a single nod once again to answer her first question and said, "He was trying to punish himself by hanging himself by the ears from a chandelier. The lit candles thought otherwise." 

Hermione couldn't hide her outraged look. "Did you _order_ him to do that?" 

Severus scoffed offendedly. "Of course not, girl," he spat. "Do you really think I am that much of a monster?" 

When Hermione didn't respond, looking rather embarrassed, he continued a little more calmly, "It appears that he was adopted by Minerva after the family he served was killed in the war. The family was filled with active supporters of the Dark Lord and were not much kinder than the Malfoys were to Dobby." 

Frowning, Hermione mumbled, mainly to herself, "How could someone _be_ that cruel?" 

"Yes, well, such the way the world goes," Severus said. "In any case, I ordered him to _not_ punish himself in such ways. Now, I must go to my library." 

He turned to stride out of the room when he heard her give a barely audible laugh. Turning around with an arched eyebrow, he gave her a hard, questioning look. "Something funny?" 

Hermione didn't drop the light smile on her face, though she tried to. "Sorry. It's just... I never thought of you as a wizard who actually had a soft spot for elves." 

xxxxx 

The snow was coming down in droves, and Hermione feared that if it kept on, she would be snowed-in in the castle and miss Christmas at the Weasleys. She stared out the enchanted window in her room and watched the heavy snow blow past. The fireplace Severus had put in her room crackled warmly next to where she was laying on the hearth rug with several open books surrounding her. 

So far, she hadn't found anything useful in the books Severus had delivered to her. Most auras mentioned in the books were talking about spiritual auras, and finding alterations in magical auras was even slimmer pickings. By the fifth day of staring at those books with no results, she felt she was ready to pull her hair out so she thought it was best to return them and ask for a bigger selection. Standing up and brushing herself off, she closed the books magically and stacked them in front of her. Levitating them out her bedroom door, she walked through the sitting room and back to where she knew the dour Potions Master's private lab was. She poked her head around the door to see he wasn't there. 

"Hmm..." she hummed to herself quietly in question. "Where'd he go?" 

Stepping back into the sitting room, she decided to just leave the stack of books on his coffee table, where he was sure to see them. She turned to make her way back to her room, but glanced at the main door. She wasn't sure how much longer it would be until Severus came back from wherever he went, and she was eager to continue her faltering research. Making a quick decision, Hermione dashed to her room to grab her cloak and disillusioned herself, as well as cast a Notice-Me-Not charm just to be sure. Making her way out the front door, she began making her way to the library. 

It was quite creepy with the castle being so completely dead with the exception of the few ghosts here and there. Hermione didn't see a single living person the whole way to the library, and found that it was quite easy to get into the restricted section to look at her leisure. She was more than well-versed with the dangers of the books in there. 

She scrutinized the titles viciously, making sure she didn't accidentally pick a book that screeched obscenities or sucked her into another dimension. Settling for a safe-looking blue book with the title _Auras for Aurors and Others_ , Hermione settled herself on the floor with her lit wand and began to thumb through the pages. She didn't notice how fast time was going. 


	17. The Library

Severus returned to the castle close to midnight that night, brushing heavy amounts of snow from his cloak and drying himself with his wand as he strode through the halls. The castle was dark and empty, and the howling of the blizzard's wind echoed loudly throughout the Entrance Hall. Making his way quickly to the dungeon, he stopped abruptly at his door. He narrowed his eyes, his wards letting him know there was no one inside his quarters. Growling to himself, he turned and stalked away with a billow of his robes. 

xxxxx 

_The library door banged open, startling a scream out of Hermione. She drew her wand and peered around the bookshelf cautiously. Her heart was pounding in anticipation and her palms were sweaty, causing her to grip her wand tighter._

" _Little witch, little witch... Where are you?"_

_Her heart froze in her chest. 'Oh, no,' she thought to herself. 'I know that voice!'_

_That was her father's voice._

_Not even bothering to make sure it was him, Hermione fled to the other end of the bookshelf and down the isle. Just as she almost reached the end, a hand darted out from behind a shelf and grabbed her by the hair. Hermione cried out in pain as she was violently jerked by the hand right into a very solid object. Eyes tearing up and shaking, Hermione slowly directed her gaze towards his face._

_He still looked just as evil as he did the previous summer. His mouth was twisted into a threatening teeth-bared grin. Before Hermione could say anything, one of his hands knocked her wand out of her hand and wrapped quickly around her neck, effectively shutting off her screaming. He slammed her to the floor, maintaining his hold on her hair and neck._

" _Did you think you were safe from me here? Did you think I wouldn't find you?" he asked through clenched teeth. "I will always find you. You will always be Daddy's little girl."_

_Hermione struggled with his grip on her throat, grappling at his strong hold. She felt him release her hair and was filled with terror as he lowered his hand to the button of her jeans. She began kicking wildly, still unable to scream as he somehow got her pants off of her in one quick motion. Terrified, she looked up again, only this time to see a mass of long blond hair._

_She looked into the blazing eyes of Lucius and blacked out._

xxxxx 

"Wake up, Granger!" 

Hermione sat up quickly with a shriek, looking around with wide, frightened eyes. Looking up from the floor of the library, Hermione's eyes met those of Severus. 

The look he was giving her was unpleasant, to say the least. His mouth was drawn in a very thin line, and his eyes were narrowed to slits. Hermione could do or say nothing as he looked at her with such scrutiny. Breaking eye contact, Hermione looked around the library, scanning the area... Just to be sure. 

"Looking for someone?" 

Severus' sudden question made her jump slightly. Looking back at him, she realized she was still on the floor and stood, brushing herself off lightly. "Um, no. Just... Just wondering how I managed to fall asleep in here." 

"Well, I certainly hope you enjoyed your nap in the library," he snapped with a glower, "because I can assure that you will not be visiting it again until school resumes." 

"What!?" Hermione exclaimed, immediately on the defensive. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to fall asleep! I just couldn't find anything in those books you gave me and you were gone so – " 

"That is no excuse, girl!" he snarled, cutting her off. "When I instruct you to not leave the dungeons, it is not because I am some sadistic slave-owner! I cannot protect you if you will not let me!" Pausing abruptly and taking a deep breath, he tried again in a more calm but just as dangerous voice, " _Lucius Malfoy_ is out there, and he is planning something _big_. I do not know what, but it is clearly obvious that it has something to do with _you_. So until we figure out what that something is and can guarantee that he will not be coming for you, you _must_ do as I say. Not as your _teacher_ , but as your husband, who took an oath to protect you. If you have a problem with that, then you can always snap your wand and go into hiding in the muggle world." 

Hermione was astounded and completely unsure of what to say. She was sure there wasn't anything _to_ say. She knew he was right, but she didn't want to back down so easily. Turning her chin up, she said, "Fine. I understand that. However, you need to understand that I have needs. You can't just lock me up with so little to do. I'll tear my hair out! At least somehow give me access to the library." 

Severus' eyes locked with Hermione's. They stood there a moment looking at each other in silence before Severus finally spoke. "Let us return to the dungeons and discuss it over some tea. It is far too late for roaming the castle." 

Slightly surprised at that, all Hermione could do was open and close her mouth a couple of times before giving him a nod, picking up the book she had been reading from the floor and replacing it on the shelf. Severus turned and walked away, Hermione following suit. 

The walk back to the dungeons was long. The silence made Hermione highly uncomfortable, and she hoped she wasn't about to be in serious trouble. She had disobeyed him, she knew that. And Severus Snape, husband or not, was not a man to disobey. 

About halfway through their trek, Severus spoke, causing Hermione to jump slightly. 

"You suffer from night terrors." 

It was more of a statement than a question. 

Hermione nodded, slightly embarrassed. "Sometimes. You know, the war and everything." 

He nodded his head with a stony-eyed expression and said nothing else, continuing their walk to the dungeons. Once they were safely in Severus' quarters, he summoned Kovu. 

With a pop, the little house elf appeared with his sloppy salute. "Master has summoned Kovu?" 

Severus addressed Kovu with the same expression he had been wearing since they left the library, which made the elf droop his ears and hunch down slightly. "A pot of tea, Kovu. Leave it on the coffee table." 

With another salute, the elf popped out. 

Hermione's nervousness had her twisting her fingers together, looking down and avoiding the dark wizard's gaze. 

"Come with me." 

Hermione looked up just as he began walking away, and hurriedly moved to follow him. She was slightly scared, to be honest. The man was acting strange. Well, more strange than usual. 

They walked down the hallway past his private labs and through the door at the end. When Hermione walked through the door, she gasped and trembled slightly. She didn't remember much from their wedding night, and what she did remember was more of a blur. She had been so nervous she definitely hadn't taken the time to admire the very Slytherin domicile he had created with his bedroom. 

His large, fourposter king size bed was constructed with thick wrought-iron, and green and silver bedding and curtains around it made it look luxurious. The torches glowed green, which cast a very eery but calming glow throughout the room. His nightstand and wardrobe were made of a black wood that Hermione wasn't familiar with, but the intricate carvings and designs of serpents etched in the wood indicated that the furniture was very old. The walls were bare except for the sconces, and one wall was completely hidden by a large, heavy green curtain. 

"What's behind the curtain?" she asked, her curiosity overtaking her. 

Severus paused and looked back at Hermione with a look of irritation. "A project," he said flatly, turning back around to face the bare wall at the foot of his bed. He placed his hand on a blank wall and stepped back as the stone crumbled away. He stepped through the opening, motioning for Hermione to follow him. She bit her lip, unsure, but followed him nonetheless. 

The sight made her jaw drop. 

Inside the entryway laid a room bigger than all of Severus' private quarters combined. And the walls were lined with nothing but books. 

Before Hermione could stop herself, she blurted, "You've been holding out on me!" 

Severus gave her a smirk. "For your own protection, I assure you. Most of these books are filled with dark magic and are extremely dangerous. I have, however, set aside the left back corner to put my books that contain rare magic that are not so dangerous. The sections are clearly labeled, so I shouldn't have need to instruct you on how to navigate these books safely. Your magical bond to me will allow you access to this room, however, I trust that are not dense enough to go snooping in my private bedroom." 

Hermione was barely listening, looking around at all of the books, but she nodded her head anyway. 

"Granger! Did you hear me?" 

Hermione snapped to attention and turned to look at the Potions' Master. "Yes. I understand. And quit calling me that. I'm not a Granger anymore." 

Severus eyed her for a moment before nodding. "Sometimes it's difficult to remember that we are married. Now, come. Kovu should have the tea waiting for us. I'm sure you will want to get an early start perusing my private collection, so we'll go ahead and administer your potion so you can eat and we can retire for the night." 

Hermione felt her cheeks redden at the way he made it sound. Like she was a sickly child who needed to be fed on a strict schedule. She knew there was nothing they could do about it, but it didn't make it any less annoying. Fighting a grimace, she nodded silently and followed him out of the room. 

xxxxx 

_Hermione was having just as much fun as she thought she would looking through Severus' private collection. Yawning as she picked up a select few books on rare magic, she set them to hover in front of her as she made her way from the private library. When she walked through the threshold to Severus' bedroom, she gasped as the books fell to the floor._

_Her father was sitting on her husband's bed, with the same twisted smile._

" _Thinking your dear_ husband _will save you?" he asked happily, smiling with an angry force. "You're nothing but a dirty little whore. He has no reason to want to save you. You're ruined, and he's far too above screwing mere whores. I'm all you got left, baby girl. And you will always be mine."_

_Hermione tried to move her arms to her wand, but her body wouldn't react. Her whole body felt as if it were turned to lead, and moving was almost impossible. A force suddenly shoved her forward, throwing her onto the spacious bed. By the time she landed, her robes and undergarments had completely disappeared. Looking up in fear, she once again saw the blazing eyes of Lucius Malfoy, his arms tightly around her._

" _What do you want with me?" she managed to scream out, straining against his hold on her. "Why won't you leave me alone?"_

" _Hermione!" he hissed, causing shivers to course through her._

" _Please don't do this!"_

" _Hermione!"_

" _If you're going to kill me then do it! Just don't do this!"_

"Hermione!" 

Hermione shot upright from her pillow with wide eyes, wildly looking around for Lucius or her vile father. It took her a moment to realize that she was still being held, to which she immediately started struggling. 

"Get off me!" she shrieked out loud. The arms restraining her tightened their grip. 

"Calm yourself, girl! You were sleeping." 

As soon as Hermione recognized his voice, she immediately stopped struggling. She looked up into Severus' deep black eyes and saw careful concern mixed with composure. Breathing hard and sweat beading on her chest and neck, Hermione took a moment to regain herself and full consciousness. Then she realized the Severus was still holding her. 

Gently, she nudged away his arms and used the freedom of her hands to brush through her hair. Letting out a puff of breath, she mumbled, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." 

The look on Severus' face was quite indiscernible, and his deep, black eyes told her something was different. "I don't usually make it a habit to interfere, but I was afraid you might hurt yourself. You were thrashing rather wildly. Would you like a Dreamless Sleep potion?" 

Hermione shook her head, her fingers still entangled through her hair. "They don't work on me. Not anymore." 

"Hermione," Severus said, getting her to look at him. When she gazed him in the eyes, he asked, "How frequently do you suffer from night terrors?" 

Hermione bit her lip and broke his gaze. "E-every now and then..." 

Anger clouded his eyes for a moment as he pondered her lie. Finally he barked, "Tell me the truth!" 

Hermione, already on the verge of a panic attack, flinched back violently from him. With a stern look from him, she finally snapped, "Every night. Every single night, okay? I took so much Dreamless Sleep at first that it eventually quit working. I'm sorry I woke you, I'll silence my door next time." 

Severus was silent for a few moments more before saying, "So you've built an immunity to the draught." 

There was silence again as he thought it over, all the while Hermione was trying to hold it together. He was still sitting directly next to her, on her bed, and as much as she didn't want to think about it, he wasn't wearing a shirt. When he spoke again, she jumped and realized she had been staring at the defined ripple down his abdomen. 

"Who is attacking you in your dream?" 

Hermione looked away. "Um, Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy." 

She watched as Severus' eyes became like two black stones, hardened and thinking fast. The silence was killing her, and it felt like eons before he finally spoke again. 

"Well, it is obvious this is somehow Malfoy's work. Your aura, your nightmares... He did something to you that somehow tied you to him. I'm not sure what exact magic he used, but... Hermione, are you sure you had no contact with Lucius after the war?" 

Hermione nodded her head, relieved that she didn't have to lie about it. "The last time I saw him before he cornered me on the astronomy tower was when he bowled me over during the final battle, trying to run away. He nearly broke one of my ribs." 

Severus looked somewhat surprised at hearing that. "And from that point, you began having nightmares?" 

Hermione thought it was a rather obvious answer. "Well, yes. I saw a lot of people I knew and cared about die that night. Harry almost died. Fenrir Greyback tried to kidnap me. I'm pretty sure it's not unusual that I have night terrors." 

"Is Lucius in all of your dreams?" 

"No," she said, then she mentally kicked herself for being so stupid. 

"Who else?" 

It took an eternity for Hermione to comprehend his question. She couldn't straight face lie to him. He was the master of deception. But could she honestly tell him that her main attacker in her dreams was her father? That he was trying to rape her? That he _had_ raped her? He would be completely disgusted with her... But she couldn't lie to him! 

"Uh, um. Just... Other people. Another person." She couldn't bring herself to remove her hands from her face. 

"I asked who, wench," he ground out, getting tired of her evading his questions. 

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. She couldn't do it. She closed her mouth and opened it a couple more times, but no noise escaped her lips. 

"What happened to you?" 

Hermione was genuinely shocked by gentle tone he was using. How did he know? What did he already know? What was he going to do? Or make her say? Her mind was spinning and it was making her head dizzy. Bringing her arm out to keep her from falling back, she brought her other hand to brush her forehead of the small amount of perspiration that had accumulated there. What was she going to do? 

"I... I..." Hermione stumbled, her heart clenching painfully in her chest. She felt lightheaded, and the grip her fear had on her body visibly showed. "I can't... It was... No one..." 

"Do not lie to me!" Severus snarled, pulling her to make her turn and face him. "I may have said I wouldn't invade your mind without your permission, but as long as it is required to keep you safe, I am not above doing what is necessary. Out with it!" 

Hermione couldn't do it. She just couldn't. She looked at him with her tear-filled brown eyes and whimpered in a broken voice, "I... can't." 

" _Legilimens_!" 


	18. The Truth

Hermione couldn't fight his invasion, and she couldn't look away from his hold on her gaze as he cast the spell. He was much too strong, and his will power was exponential. Hermione could do nothing as Severus broke past her weak, almost nonexistent barriers, going straight to viewing her past through her mind. The first he came across was the attack. Her father's attack on her. Hermione silently pleaded inside her mind to stop watching, to stop making her watch. She could feel Snape's revulsion as he filtered through the memory, seeing every detail, every scream... 

Her nightmares were next. He watched as her father came after her repeatedly every night, how he would morph into Lucius sometimes. He saw everything, and when he pulled out of her mind, she could only sit there and stare at him with a horrified expression, tears streaming down her face. The look of mild shock on his face was genuine, and his eyes were blazing with fury. Without a word, Severus stood and walked out of the room, leaving her there alone in the dark. 

Hermione sat there, shaking as though she had had a bucket of ice water dumped on her. The shock had settled in when he began but was beginning to wear off, and suddenly she was panicking. 

'Where did he go? Why did he just leave?' 

'What is he going to do? What am _I_ going to do?' 

Her short gasps were quickly escalating to the point that she was hyperventilating. Her mind was whirling around her, and she needed to make it stop. She needed to make everything stop. 

Stumbling out of her bed and knocking her nightstand over in the process, Hermione dashed to her bathroom and threw herself to the floor in front of her sink cabinet. She opened the cabinet and shuffled around the contents before she found the small box she had been looking for. 

Sitting on the floor and propping herself against the tub, she opened her bag and fished out her sharp muggle tool. Hands shaking, she rolled the sleeve of her night shirt up past her elbow, no longer paying mind to the multitude of other scars that adorned her arm. 

Not even caring about the repercussions, just wanting to make everything go away, she touched the razor to her wrist and slid it upwards, the pain causing her to gasp out and shudder. The knot in her chest loosened as she dragged it up her arm, feeling the blood pour out and run down her arm. It cascading to the floor and stained the marble with bright red, puddling underneath her. Not satisfied, she continued on with another gash, not really caring if it was too much. She pressed harder, shutting out everything around her, determined for it to all go away. Her life may as well have been over. It was filled with nothing but pain and humiliating violation. She yearned for an ounce of peace amidst the chaotic storm inside her mind. 

After a few short moments of laying on the floor, blood still trickling from her arm, Hermione felt herself become dizzy and lightheaded. Her stomach churned and she knew she had done too much. She just couldn't find it in herself to care anymore. She wanted to leave, in a way. Trying was hard and painful. 

Her eyes began drifting closed right as she heard him. 

"Oh, bloody hell!" 

Opening her heavy eyelids, Hermione watched with blurry vision as the tall, dark wizard entered the bathroom and made his way toward her. He dropped to the ground next to her and pulled her to him. 

"Why did you do this?!" he snarled. 

"Just... leave me..." was all she could croak out. 

He grabbed her arm and held it out, waving his wand over it in an intricate pattern and muttering a long incantation. Her hazed mind guessed it was the same one he used to heal Draco after his duel with Harry in the boys' bathroom. Slowly, the wounds sealed themselves little by little, but the blood she had already lost was making her lose consciousness fast. 

"Fucking idiot girl!" he hissed out as he picked her up. She couldn't see where he was taking her, and she was having a difficult time keeping her eyes open. She heard a couple of doors slam open before she felt herself be settled on something soft. She heard a drawer be pulled out and a clinking of vials. Only a few moments later, she felt some kind of bitter liquid being poured down her throat. Her last threads of consciousness faded away as she heard the dark wizard curse. 

xxxxx 

Hermione groggily opened her eyes with much effort and immediately noticed that she wasn't in her room. Fear made her shoot up to a sitting position, looking around quickly and realizing that she was in Severus' room, in his bed. And Severus himself was sitting in a chair against the wall with a book in his hand. 

Her energy quickly faltered, her body falling back onto the bed. "What... What am I doing here?" she asked aloud. 

Severus stared her down from his seat. Setting his book down, he said, "The better question is, why was I forced to bring you here?" His voice was nowhere near pleasant. 

"What? I don't understand..." 

Hermione gasped as her most recent memories flooded the forefront of her mind, making her remember that he had used Legilimency on her. That he knew all of her secrets. And that she tried to kill herself afterward. 

"You tried to bleed yourself to death after I left the room. Why?" His stare was cold and calculated, his voice as rough as sandpaper. 

Hermione could feel it coming, and when it arrived, the dam in her chest burst. She broke down in sobs, covering her face with her hands. The pain and fear ripping through her fueled her tears, and it took several moments to say anything. 

"You know... You know _everything_... How disgusting I am... How _broken_ I am... How I didn't stop him... When you saw everything... You just left... And I knew... I _knew_... That I'm absolutely worthless... That I'm a _whore_... You should have left me to die..." 

Severus was silent for a moment while she cried, but finally stood and crossed the room to the bed. "Look at me." 

Hermione didn't adhere at first, silently sobbing into her hands. 

"Look at me, wench!" 

Hermione raised her tear-stained face to make eye contact with him. What she saw there startled her. 

His black eyes were now calm and smooth. 

"I left to find this book," he said, indicating to the book in his hand. "It explains what happened." 

With a deep breath, he explained, "That was not your father." 

Hermione ceased her crying, her mind braking to a standstill. "W... What?" 

Severus sat down on the edge of the bed and held out to her the open book. With a serious tone, he offered, "That man was not your father. He was an Incubus, brought to life by an old German spell." 

Hermione's eyes widened. The shock alone was enough to delay her response, but none of it really made sense to her. She tried to move her mouth open and closed several times, trying to say something in response to that startling news. 

An Incubus? A summoned demon? It hadn't really been her father? She was violated by some mythical creature? Then what happened to her real father? 

"If that wasn't really my father, then where is my _real_ father?" was the first thing she asked. 

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping you would already know this, but the only way an Incubus can exist in... someone else's image... is if the owner of the image they're taking is dead." 

Hermione heard him loud and clear and waited to feel some kind of remorse wash over her, waited to feel the sting of loss... but it never came to her. 

Her image of her father had been completely ruined by a monster, and she could not find it herself at that moment to miss him. Even if he wasn't the one who had broken her. 

"How can an Incubus exist? The magic for them was destroyed." 

"Unfortunately," Severus said, letting go of the book as she took it from him and began reading through the page, "the Dark Lord gained access to many things that were thought to be long forgotten. He had many hiding places as well, which makes tracking his remaining artifacts nearly impossible. However, there is a good chance that he left some of his possessions with his followers. If that was truly an Incubus, I have no doubt that the book needed for such a spell was acquired by the Dark Lord and bequeathed to one of his followers. I have a strong notion that Lucius Malfoy was that follower." 

Hermione's head snapped up to look at Severus. "Malfoy?" 

Severus gave her a solemn gaze. "Indeed. He would be the only one insane enough to do it, and it takes an incredible amount of power to summon the demon and control it. Incubi are useful for a number of rituals and very powerful creaures. Why didn't you defend yourself? Like a witch?" 

Hermione thought his question over. Why _didn't_ she ever use magic to defend herself? "I... I don't know. For some reason... I never tried. Something always seemed to stop me. Like I physically nor mentally could bring myself to even think about using magic. And I could never find a way to tell anyone, either. Some part of me always stopped me. Do you think that was part of the Incubus' magic?" 

Severus' eyes narrowed in contemplation. "No, that wouldn't be part of their magic. Incubus are generally uncaring about their victims defending themselves. They're strong enough to take what they want without many spells being a danger to them. If anything, the demon's summoner probably cast a linking spell." 

"My aura..." Hermione said suddenly, thinking about the murky spot that Severus sensed. "Lucius must somehow be using my aura to control me." 

Severus eyes slightly widened as realization dawned on him. "He cast a spell on your aura to tie you to him. He sent the Incubus to you in your father's form to create a rift in your family. He must have Imperiused your mother as well, seeing as how uninvolved she seemed in your attack. He used his aura tie to you to make you defenseless against it." 

"Is that even possible?" Hermione asked, thumbing through the pages of the book. "Can someone really make such a subtle change in someone's mind?" 

"In part," he offered. "Magical aura ties are not very strong unless the participants are Bonded, but they can be strong enough to alter someone's mindset briefly. The last time aura ties were used, it was centuries ago when it was still okay for men to make their women more... cooperative." 

Hermione looked incredulously at Severus. "But why would he do that? Why is he doing any of this?" 

Severus let out a puff of breath. "I am unsure. It doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense right now. But I will figure it out." Standing up to his full height, he said, "In the meantime, I'm afraid I must forbid you from leaving these quarters. At least, if you're here, you _will be_ safe." 

Severus demeanor darkened as he leaned over abruptly and grasped Hermione's arm, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the scars there. In almost a growl, he said, "And do not ever let me catch you doing this again. It is not worth it, and I daresay that I have put far too much on the line for you to just throw it away. Now that we've begun to get your eating habits under control, I do not want to have to start on a _new_ problem. If your anxiety ever becomes that much of a problem again, I can get you a Calming Draught." 

Severus turned and strode to the door, stopping short as he reached for the door handle. Turning to face her once more, he said, "And I am sorry. For our wedding night. If I had known what you had been forced to endure, I would have tried to find another way around it." The look on his face showed true remorse, and she knew she felt no resentment towards him for it. He couldn't have known, and she selfishly didn't tell him to protect herself. No, she couldn't hate him for what they had to do, but she couldn't certainly hate Lucius Malfoy for screwing with her life. 


	19. The Reveal

The few days leading up to Christmas had been nerve-wracking for her. 

Hermione had spent her days after the fiasco cooped up in Severus' private library alone, gathering as much information as she could on Incubus magic. She had seen Severus maybe twice throughout those few days, and had interacted with him even less. Every night before she went to sleep, Kovu would always appear with her potion and something to eat. She was becoming accustomed to the euphoric feeling the potion gave her, and some nights it would throw her into a fit of giggles for no reason. Once Kovu managed to get her to eat, he would take his leave so she could sleep off the potion. 

While researching, even with innumerable books and research material at her disposal, she was still coming up painstakingly short in the answers department. After her frustratingly failed attempt at finding something useful on Incubi, she retreated back to her aura research, hoping to find out exactly what Lucius had done to her aura to tie her to him. She was also thinking she might could somehow cross reference Incubi with auras, just to see if anything interesting came up. 

As far as that idea went, she may as well have not even tried. 

She had begun making slight headway in the auras area on Christmas Eve, which made her eager to make her visit to the Burrow short. She had stayed up all night after her breakthrough, poring over texts that explained the archaic practice of tying magical auras for obedience. It was commonly used for outgoing witches and slaves, but could sometimes be used to tip someone's favor their way. 

At about three in the morning, Severus made an appearance in the library with her. He glared at her and said sardonically, "Enjoying your time in my private library?" 

Before she could respond, he interrupted and continued, "As irritated as I am that you have not yet removed yourself from my rooms, this is important." 

With a flourish, he produced a flask from his inner robe, filled with a blue potion swirling around inside. "This is a potion that was designed to block magical influence on the mind. Mind you, it is not powerful enough to block the Imperius, but it would be enough to stop someone from shallowly altering small parts of your mind. It should... help, getting you back to your solid mental state." 

Hermione stood as she opened her mouth, thinking of something to say. Finally, with offended sadness, she said, "You think he's made me go mad?" 

Severus growled to himself and brushed his fingers through his hair. " _No_. I believe that his connection with your aura has slightly altered your ways of thinking. Have you not noticed a difference in your personality or mood?" 

Hermione stood there, unable to respond right away. 

He was right. 

She normally wasn't the brooding, reclusive type. Even if her attacker – her rapist – hadn't been her father, she was still hurt in the worst of ways. But she had already been through so much in the war, should those incidents with the Incubus have affected her that much more? 

"How did you find that potion?" she asked after her several minute long thought processing. 

"It was mentioned in a book I found," he said simply, giving her a look that told her to leave it alone. 

But she wouldn't. "What book? Is it helpful with the whole aura thing? Let me see it!" 

Hermione tried to move forward to him but his words stopped her. "No, I cannot allow it. The book in my possession _does_ contain useful information, however..." He paused, looking as if he was deciding whether he should tell her or not. "It's a... dark book. A particularly dark book." 

"Too dark for me to read? Severus, I think you should know by now that I'm not easily influenced by books. Well, in the magical sense." Hermione crossed her arms, offended. 

"It's not its content I'm worried about you seeing," he snapped. "It's the book itself. You have to be... Well, only a very dark soul can touch it and read it. A soul with blood on its hands. If an innocent lays a hand on this book, the damage can be... catastrophic." 

Hermione wanted to fight him on it, but if he was right about the book, she didn't want to risk whatever could happen if she touched it. "Well, I guess I could give the potion a shot, as long as you promise it won't kill me." 

She heard him grumble something about "idiot girl" under his breath, but she let it go and took the flask he handed out to her. 

Looking at the swirling blue liquid, she looked up to see Severus watching her every move. Holding the flask up to him, she said, "Cheers." 

She downed it in one gulp, and it strangely didn't have much taste to it at all. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant, for which she was grateful. The two stood there a moment looking at each other before she felt herself becoming strangely lucid. The feeling was as though someone was pulling off incredibly thin layers of mesh from her mind, her ability to access her mind was clearing, and she could feel her sense of touch, smell and sight enhance. But it wasn't really enhanced. It was returning her body and mind back to the way it was... before she retrieved her parents from Australia. 

"I felt normal all the way up until my parents and I got home from Australia. Do you suppose the Incubus triggered the effects of Lucius' aura tie?" 

He answered simply, "Yes." 

Hermione had another thought. "Do you... Do you suppose it was the Incubus I retrieved from Australia?" 

"No," Severus responded shortly, taking the empty flask Hermione handed to him and re-pocketing it. "Not even I knew that your parents were Obliviated in Australia until I read your mind. There's no way Lucius could have known. I'm assuming that as soon as you arrived back in Britain, Lucius somehow managed to... dispose of your father and capture his essence. There's also a strong possibility that he cast some kind of permanent confunding charm or Imperius on your mother to lessen her interference. Was there a small period of time after you arrived home that your parents seemed normal before they became... Well, raving lunatics?" 

Though she couldn't help the grimace at his tactless words, all of their unusual guesses and questions made her realize just how much she hadn't noticed about the whole situation. "Y-yes. They seemed normal for two days after we arrived home, then they suddenly changed. I... Can't believe I hadn't thought that it wasn't magical influence. I can't believe that... For months I thought my parents were monsters. And for some reason, I had been thinking they had always been that way. But they weren't. I can't believe I didn't see it." 

"That's the potion working," Severus said, stepping aside and beckoning Hermione to exit the library. "Unfortunately, the potion isn't permanent. It wears off in forty-eight hours. I have a small stock of it, but we'll need to sort this situation out with Lucius before you're stuck taking that potion for the rest of your life." 

Hermione brushed past him and out of the library, turning to face him as he closed the room up. "Thank you. I'm feeling much better than I have in months." 

"Don't thank me yet. We still have to deal with Lucius." 

xxxxx 

A tired looking Hermione and buoyant Harry trudged up the snowy hill to the Burrow on Christmas Day, apparating to the very outskirt of the Weasleys' magical protections they had maintained in place after the war – just as a precaution. Harry had picked her up from the Hogwarts' gate, under the watchful eye of a certain paranoid dark wizard. As per her husband's request, Hermione owled Harry and asked for him to retrieve her to ensure her safety. 

She had been thinking critically about whether she should take the time to sit her friends down and explain everything going on or not. She didn't want to worry them, but she knew that if any of their roles were reversed, she would want to know immediately. Even so, she couldn't imagine how she would even begin to explain everything. 

"So, he hasn't been absolutely terrible to you, has he?" Harry sounded nervous in asking, which she understood to a degree. Questioning Severus Snape's intentions after everything the dour wizard had done for the wizarding world could have been a considered a slap in the face. 

Hermione let out a puff of breath, blowing away a snowflake that had landed on her nose. "Well, I'm not going to lie and say that it's all sunshine and rainbows. Severus Snape is a very difficult man to get along with. However... I think, given the circumstances, we've both made the best of a miserable situation. He gave me access to his private library, so we pretty well stay out of each others' way. Honestly, the only way any of this could have been made any easier is if we weren't forced to be married at all." 

Harry chuckled slightly. "At least you're safe." 

Hermione nodded absently, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. "Being married to the most powerful and dangerous wizard in current existence does have its perks." 

Harry snorted but didn't make a comment as they reached the door to the Burrow. 

Molly immediately began fussing over Hermione as soon as she stepped through the threshold, forcing her to sit as she piled mounds of bacon and eggs onto a plate for her. 

"Is that man feeding you at all? I swear, I'm going to send him an owl right now and tear him a new one – " she fluttered as she made her way around kitchen. Harry grinned at Hermione and slipped out the door, leaving the two alone. 

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said exasperatedly, grabbing the attention of the Weasley matriarch. When Molly paused and turned to face her, Hermione continued. "He's not starving me. He's actually been helping me get my weight back to normal. I lost a, er, few pounds over the summer... due to a muggle illness. I'm better now, it's just taking some time to get back to normal. Where are the others?" 

Molly looked hard at Hermione to see if she could detect a lie. When she saw none, she relaxed the large butcher knife that had somehow made its way into her hand and sighed irritably. "Hmph, if you say so. But if I find out that he's mistreating you, I will feed his head to the gnomes." She began swinging the knife slightly for emphasis. "I'm grateful to him for his part in the war, but I'm sure he hasn't changed his ways much. It's a wonder he didn't hex everyone in the ministry for forcing him to get married." She paused her swinging, glancing out the kitchen window in thought for a moment before saying, "And the others went to the orchard for a quick Quidditch match. They'll be in shortly." 

Hermione nodded her head as she politely bit into a piece of bacon, agreeing that it was out of character for Severus to be so accepting of the bizarre situation they were in. "I'm sure he didn't want to go back to Azkaban. Even though I have no doubt that he's more than capable of surviving that place, a majority of the other inmates were put there because of him. I imagine it would become tiring, constantly defending yourself." 

It was Molly's turn to nod her head in agreement as she finished washing dishes. Hermione ate as much as she could off her plate before pushing it away, looking slightly green. "That was delicious, Mrs. Weasley. I actually believe I ate a little too much." 

"Thank you, dear. And there's no such thing as eating too much, you hardly ate a thing! There's always more if you want it, dear. Now, why don't you make yourself comfortable in the living room while I make some tea? I think I hear the others coming up the hill." 

After a quick trip to the restroom to quietly rid herself of breakfast (she couldn't very well go to the Weasleys' on that potion, could she?)Hermione settled herself in front of the fire in the living room, trying to bring warmth back to her cheeks. She heard the kitchen door open and several people trampling through to the room she was in. The first person to enter was Arthur Weasley, who immediately smiled brightly and made his way to Hermione to give her a hug, "Happy Christmas, Hermione! It's so good to see you." 

"It's good to see you, too, Mr. Weasley. It's been too long." 

Next was Ron, who had Lavender in tow. "Hey, 'Mione. Happy Christmas! Glad the greasy git let you come, today." 

"Ronald," Hermione scolded, hugging him nonetheless. "Severus probably saved my life. You should be a little more grateful." Releasing Ron from their embrace, she noticed the timid look Lavender was giving her. 

"Happy Christmas, Lavender," she said, smiling at her but not moving in to hug her. They were never that close. "I hope you're doing okay." 

"Happy Christmas to you too. And I'm as good as I can be," Lavender replied, smiling back. Hermione bet everything she owned that Lavender's smile wasn't genuine, but she let it go. Lavender had always been jealous of Hermione's relationship with Ron, even if it was only friendly. 

Hermione passed hugs and greetings around to everyone else, Molly bustling in with a tray of tea and biscuits. Harry and Ginny emerged from upstairs to join the festivities, looking flustered but happy. 

It took hours for everyone to wind down enough to allow Hermione to try and sneak away with her friends. Fleur and Molly commandeered Lavender for cooking lessons, which Hermione saw as her only chance. Walking into the living room, Hermione caught Harry, Ron and Ginny's eye and pointedly made her way for the stairs. She knew they were following her, so she kept going until she entered Ron's room at the very top of the stairs. Only a moment later, the other three made their entrances. 

"Did you need to talk to us, Hermione?" Ginny asked, settling herself in her usual spot on the floor within their circle. 

"Well, yes," Hermione said, wringing her hands and biting her lip. She was still unsure. 

"Well?" Harry prodded, settling next to Ginny. 

Hermione couldn't bring herself to sit down, her nerves driving her crazy. She quickly cast a silencing spell around the room so no one outside could hear. "It has to do with, well, my whole predicament." 

The three sat and stared at her curiously, which she took as their prompting to continue. Conjuring a jar, Hermione used her favorite flame charm to create some heat for them. 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she sat in her spot in the circle and looked down at her hands. "Listen, you guys know that I had to marry Severus for protection and convenience. Well, it turns out, I need his protection way more than we had anticipated. Please, just let me finish before you ask questions." 

Looking up to see their nods, she dove into her explanation of everything that she and Severus had pieced together. When she explained her Incubus-father attacks, the horrified looks on her friends' faces made her words begin to falter. She couldn't help but feel like they were disgusted with her, even though they showed no signs of it. However, she knew that if she didn't tell them the truth while she had them completely alone, she probably would never have the opportunity again until it didn't matter, so she continued on and ignored their expressions with a cringe. When she explained Lucius cornering her in the Astronomy tower, Harry and Ron both growled to themselves and clenched their fists, but Ginny made a hissing sound to make them shut up, though she was obviously infuriated as well. Hermione decided to conveniently leave out the part about hurting herself, which she didn't want the scrutiny nor the sympathy for. 

It wasn't part of her major problem, anyway. 

After she felt she was finished explaining, she ended with, "So... We think Lucius Malfoy may be controlling an Incubus that has been posing as my father since shortly after the war." 

Hermione was suppressing the urge to shiver, her anxiety about what they would think overpowering her. The four of them sat there for quite a few minutes in compete silence, mulling over everything. It was Ron who finally spoke first. 

"Why are we just now finding this out?" 

Hermione let out a breath she had been holding, twisting her fingers together in her nervousness. "We only discovered the Incubus bit a few days ago. And the Malfoy thing..." She pointedly looked at Harry and Ron. "Well, I knew what you two would do if you found out. And as much as I would love to kick Lucius in the bollocks again, we don't know what he's planning or what we're up against. That's what we've been working on." 

It was Harry's turn to ask a question. "And you and Snape think that whatever Malfoy did to your magical aura, he's controlling you with it?" 

Hermione shook her head. "Not controlling, per say. It seems he can somehow slow down or block parts of my mind for brief periods of time. That's what he did to stop me from defending myself or telling anyone. Whatever he did to my aura had also drastically changed my... mood, I guess you could say. I hadn't quite been myself. Fortunately, Severus found a potion last night that rendered Lucius' tie to me unusable. The down side is the potion isn't permanent so we've got to figure out Lucius' plan to stop all this madness." 

"Blimey," Ron said. "You don't suppose he's got something planned to bring back You-Know-Who, do you?" 

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together, biting her lip for a moment. "We can't rule that out as a possibility, but it's unlikely. We destroyed all of the horcruxes. Voldemort's as dead as he can get." 

The lull in their talk had Hermione looking to Ginny, who was wearing the oddest expression. 

Hermione asked, "Ginny? Are you okay?" 

Suddenly, Ginny flew across the circle and tackle Hermione in a hug. "I had no idea, Hermione, I'm _sooo_ sorry! I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that! You must have felt awful!" 

Hermione appreciated the worry but once she felt her face begin to turn blue, she gently tugged Ginny away from her. "I'm okay, now. The potion has really helped, and I have one of the most brilliant wizards alive helping me piece everything together. It won't be too much longer before we figure out what Lucius Malfoy is up to, and we'll put a stop to whatever it is." 

"There's something I don't get, though," Harry said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "How does Snape know that it was a Incubus? What if your father was Imperiused?" 

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but promptly closed it. How _had_ he known? He never explained it to her. 

"I'm... I'm not sure. I suppose I'll have to ask him." 

xxxxx 

By the time Hermione left the Burrow, the sun was beginning to set. She hadn't anticipated staying so late, but it had been so long since she had felt so happy and at peace. Her friends were back in the loop, the potion Severus gave to her worked wonderfully, she was full, happy and sleepy. 

Ron decided to take up the shift to return Hermione back to Hogwarts, seeing as Harry and Ginny left a little early to get back to Grimmauld Place. Once the two of them reached the outside of the Burrow's enchantments, Hermione grabbed hold of Ron's arm as he raised his wand, apparating them both back to Hogwarts' gate. Ron, obviously eager to get back to his wife, said a quick goodbye with a hug and apparated out, leaving Hermione standing at the gate. Though she had been under explicit instructions to not allow her escort to leave her alone, she brushed it off, sure she was able enough to defend herself for a few minutes. Just as she was about to shoot off a patronus to alert Severus to her arrival, she heard a twig snap behind her. She jumped and turned quickly, holding her wand out in front of her, ready for a fight. 

She shouldn't have been surprised to see Lucius Malfoy himself standing in front of her. 


	20. The Struggle

"My, my, Madam Snape," Lucius drawled, his wand already already drawn and steadied on her. "Your reflexes are very defined." 

"Lucius," Hermione responded coldly, trying to hide her nervousness as her wand was trained on him in return. "You've lost. I'm married now. You can't have me." 

"Ah," he said jovially, taking a step forward. Hermione stayed in place, determined to hold her ground. "Well, the thing is, I still can. Having you legally as my wife would have helped my purpose not draw as much attention, but it does not mean I still can't use you. Your dear husband used to share with all of the death eaters, he'd be a hypocrite to not allow my use of you when we've known each other for so long..." The curl of his lip was plain as day. 

Panicking, Hermione suddenly whipped her wand about, crying, " _Expelliarmus_!" 

The green light shot towards Lucius lightning fast, but he was faster. 

" _Protego_! _Imperio_!" he countered instantly, deflecting her disarming spell and putting her under his control. Noticing her immediate docility, he smiled gleefully to himself and approached her. Hermione fought his control tooth and nail, but she knew she had slipped up and underestimated Lucius' dueling abilities. Grabbing her by the arm, he apparated the both of them away. 

xxxxx 

The two reappeared immediately in a dingy alleyway, rats scurrying around the corners and the smell of sewage permeating the filthy space. Hermione was finding it hard to keep her mind focused on what was happening, Lucius' sudden control over her too strong for her to break. She wished she had had Harry train her to fight it. He was a natural at it, and there she was completely at the man's mercy. She was aware of where she was and what she was doing, which was more than what most people under the curse could do, but that was the most lucidness she could muster. Lucius' voice in her mind instructed her to follow him, to which she couldn't refuse. She robotically followed his command, her insides burning with shame. 

Lucius flicked his wand at an oversized dumpster, forcing it to move away with a screeching of metal and revealing a door. He used the curse to force Hermione to enter the threshold, taking great joy in the girl bending to his will. He felt her desperately weak struggle against his magical hold on her, but it was almost laughable at how well he was commanding her. It must have been such an embarrassment for her to be the brightest witch of her age but not be able to throw off a curse that her golden leader had done on his first attempt. Irony was so sweet. 

Hermione would have gasped if she could have. Looking upon the inside of the dilapidated building, it could have actually passed for a decent place. That is, if it weren't for the obvious instruments of torture laying about. Elegant furniture was placed strategically around the room, with a large and luxurious looking bed centered against the far wall. The wall had manacles protruding above the bed, and a strange harness looking contraption was suspended from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Next to the bed was a table that was lain with very obvious torture tools, all of which made her want to cry out in fear. She was truly frightened, and there was nothing she could do. 

Lucius secured the door behind him with a wave of his wand and then directed Hermione to the bed, forcing her to toss her wand across the room as she slowly approached the wall and manacled herself. Once he was certain she was secure, he removed the curse from her, allowing her free will again. She immediately took her chance to strain against the chains and scream out, "Let me go! What is wrong with you?! Why are you doing this?!" 

Lucius chuckled and overlooked her outburst. "I do hope you like the accommodations. It was dreadful turning this dump into a suitable hideout. My manor was too obvious." 

The sneer on his face made her sick to her stomach, and she did not wish to go down easily. 

"It doesn't matter!" she yelled out, pulling as hard as she could against the manacles. "Someone will come for me and find me and put you in your place!" Hermione growled in pain, her wrists bleeding and bruising against the effort of trying to break free of her restraints. 

"Dear girl, you underestimate me. I've tried doing this the easy way and gave you the option of comfort," he said with a disgustingly chipper tone. Removing his cloak and robe, Lucius rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and strode to the edge of the bed, sitting just out of Hermione's reach. "Now, because of your refusal to cooperate, things are going to have to be done a little differently-" 

"-We know you summoned an Incubus!" Hermione yelled out, trying to bluff him into thinking they were two steps ahead of him. She tried to lunge at him, but he was too far away. "We know you poisoned my aura!" 

A momentary look of anxiety washed over Lucius' features before he carefully smoothed them out once more. "Congratulations. Do you want a prize? I can give you a prize.," he sneered. "Now," he said, clapping his hands together, "time for the festivities." 

Reaching over to the table next to the bed, Lucius picked up a corked vial filled with a dark green potion. Uncorking it, he approached Hermione slowly, the smile on his face sending a shiver through her. "Now, you can drink this like the good little Griffindor cub you are, or I can force you." 

Hermione's only answer was to scream out, "Go to Hell!" while kicking her unrestrained feet at him. She felt her left foot catch him in the stomach, but it apparently wasn't enough as he grabbed her by the foot and twisted it, a sickening _crack_ resounding from her now broken ankle. She yelled out in pain as Lucius turned his wand upon Hermione. " _Petrificus Totalus_!" 

Hermione's limbs all snapped to her body painfully. She tried to move as hard as she could but it was helpless. She could do nothing as Lucius leaned over her and pried her mouth open. Grabbing her roughly by the hair to hold her head back, he tipped the vial and poured the entire potion in her mouth. Massaging her throat to make sure it all went down, he backed up and released his full body bind on her. She gasped and spluttered upon release. 

"There you go," he grinned evilly. "That was a rather complex brew I found in one of the Dark Lord's personal books. Basically, it is going to drain a majority of your life force while keeping you completely lucid. I could just as easily incapacitate you completely, but I like a little bit of fight, and I like my girls to feel the pain." 

Hermione could feel the potion slowly coursing through her veins, her muscles growing weaker and weaker. Within a couple of minutes, she felt as though her muscles were made of marshmallow. She could still move, but it was taking more and more effort with each second. Trying to yell out at him, she managed to only groan out, "Why...? Why are you doing this... To me...?" Tears streamed from her eyes as her situation was looking more and more grim. Her fierce Griffindor courage was draining from her along with her energy. 

"Because," he drawled in a silken voice, "I need an heir. But I don't need just any heir, I need _yours_." 

Hermione was frightened to the core, but her body was having difficulty reacting at all. Basically slumped against her restraints, she mumbled, "What... What does... An Incubus... Have to do... With this..?" 

Lucius sidled up close to her, and she could feel the heat of his body wash over her. He was too close. "I summoned the Incubus," he whispered close to her ear, his hand reaching forward and grazing her sides, "Because I wish to have a Cambion child." 

"No..." she groaned out, trying to move away from him. She could barely muster the energy to turn to her side before he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. When he pulled her back to face him, she managed just enough to spit in his face. With that stunt, he became enraged and slammed his fist hard across her face, splitting the skin above her right eye. 

"You're going to pay for that one, little girl," he said through clenched teeth. Dazed from the blow, she whimpered and tried to turn her head away, but not before he grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him. His mouth, hot and bitter, crashed down upon her own in a bruising kiss as he flicked his wand and removed all of her clothing, exposing her body. Tears were running freely from Hermione's clenched-shut eyes as this evil blond maniac stripped her. His hands roughly grabbed her mounds, causing Hermione to groan out in pain and shove weakly against his chest. 

Lucius kneaded harder and sunk his teeth into Hermione's bottom lip, drawing blood. He sucked on her lip for a moment, tasting her life force before he lowered his lips to her neck where he bit down again, breaking the skin and lapping up the blood with relish. Noticing her obvious discomfort, he said, "Oh, dear, it only gets better from here. This is just the foreplay. _I_ won't even be participating in the final event." 

Hermione's eyes widened at his announcement, and she felt her fear spike to even higher levels. Hermione could do nothing but plead pathetically over and over in her drug-induced state as his hands began roaming the expanse of her trembling body. She still resisted but she had absolutely no luck. She tried to resort to doing the only thing she could to possibly hurt her vile wizard on top of her. 

"Is this the... Only way... You... Can get... A woman?" she managed to sneer out. Before she even let her smug sense of self-satisfaction sink in, his wand was slashed over her. 

" _Crucio_!" 

Intense pain rang throughout her body as he held the curse on her, the anger apparent on his face. She felt as though millions of large bolts of electricity we coursing through her at once, and the intensity just became greater and greater. He held her under the pain for a solid five minutes before he finally released her. 

"Anything more you would like to add?" he asked menacingly. 

Before she could open her mouth to respond, he again cried, " _Crucio_!" 

More excruciating pain flowed through her body, seizing all of her muscles. She felt as though all of her bones were breaking at once, and her head may as well have been imploding. Another full ten minutes of it seemed to finally get it out of Lucius' system. 

"Please... Don't..." she cried meekly, trying to turn her head away from him as he resumed his position in front. Her body spasmed and she hurt all over. 

"Don't worry," he chuckled. "This process should only take a couple of days." 

" _Sectumsempra_!" 

Hermione cried out as Lucius suddenly slumped on top of her, his body fully pressed against hers as blood blossomed from the large jagged gashes he now sported across his back. His eyes were wide with shock, his hands gripping her arms tightly as he slid to the floor in front of her. 

She could only manage a small and confused, "What?" 

"Hermione." 

Oh dear God in Heaven, it was him. Her legs were trying to give out, and she couldn't get the energy to lift her head to look. "Sev... Severus...? Is that you?" 

When felt Lucius' grip release her, she finally managed to drag her head up to see her savior in black, with a murderous glare trained on Lucius' now-unconscious form. He stared the unmoving man down, seething and obviously in deep debate with himself. 

"I should finish him quickly. I should end it now. He's going to die anyways." 

A look of resolve passing over his face, he raised his wand, directing it at Lucius' form. 

"It... Hurts..." is all Hermione could put into words, tugging weakly against her restraints. More spasms rang through her body but she could only manage a moan. When Severus noticed this, he changed his mind and decided to let Lucius die the slow death. Grabbing Lucius' body and shoving it roughly away from her, Severus flicked his wand at her restraints and freed her, just as her legs finally gave up. He caught her before she hit the cold, stone floor, cradling her lightly as he examined her. "Are you alright? What did he do to you?" 

All Hermione could do was look over at the empty potion bottle lying on the table, her strength waning further and further. Severus snatched the potion bottle from the table and sniffed it. It wasn't a familiar smell to him, but he could analyze the remnants back in his lab. Pocketing the bottle and taking off his cloak, Severus wrapped it around Hermione's bare form and lifted her into his arms. Quickly, he summoned Hermione's wand from the floor and with the blink of an eye, they apparated back to Hogwarts, leaving Lucius to bleed to death, alone in his own torture chamber. 

xxxxx 

As soon as Severus had Hermione safely in their quarters, he carried her to his room and laid her on the bed gently. Using a bit of effort to get her attention, Severus held up the bottle and asked, "Hermione? Do you know what this potion does?" 

Hermione was barely able to move her head to face him. "No... I... I'm so... Weak. But... I can... feel... everything... See it... Hear it..." 

"How much did he give you?" Severus inquired quickly, not liking where his answers were getting him. 

"The... The whole... Thing..." Her voice was so weak, he was surprised she was even still awake. But if his assumptions were correct about the potion judging by the powerful smell, then it was a strong possibility that she was given a lot more than she could probably handle. 

"I'll be right back," he said suddenly. "I need to analyze the remnants to figure out what he gave you. Kovu!" 

The little house elf popped in, saluting. "Yes, Master?" 

"Keep a watch on Hermione. If her condition worsens, contact me immediately. I should be back in just a few minutes." 

"Yes, Master Snape. Anything for you and the missus." 

Severus was too wrapped up in the goings-on to grimace at that statement, still not quite use to hearing it. Swiftly, he turned on his heel and left the room in a billow of robes, going straight to his private lab. 

Clearing off a counter-top, Severus laid out a small sheet of glass and removed the bottle from his pocket. Using a siphoning charm, he withdrew the remaining green liquid from the bottle and laid it on the glass, spreading it out evenly. Once he was satisfied, he whisked his wand over the glass with two quick swipes, then a long stroke. The green solution began to glow. 

xxxxx 

As Kovu flitted about the room cleaning various things, Hermione was still no better off. She still felt entirely too weak, and she knew she was getting no better. The spasms from the Cruciatus curse still wracked her body and at that point there was nothing she wanted more than to pass out and wake up from her nightmare, but there was obviously something in that potion that didn't allow her to fall asleep. She rolled over slowly and with much effort, groaning at how her muscles ached. Her head throbbed from the force of Lucius' blow, and her ankle felt as though it were on fire. Her wrists had finally stopped bleeding, but they were bruised and her left wrist felt broken, possibly from straining against the manacles under the Cruciatus. Silent tears continuously streamed down her face until Severus reentered the room a few minutes later. He moved quickly to the edge of the bed and sat down, looking slightly solemn. 

"The potion Lucius made you drink isn't unfamiliar, though I don't know what it's called." Hermione could hear the obvious disdain in his voice. "It's ceremonial, though I need more information about what kind of ceremony it's used for... It drains you of your energy... And forces you to stay awake. It... It also cancels out any healing on the user. I won't be able to heal your injuries until it wears off." 

Hermione was only slightly shocked, more in pain than anything. Gritting her teeth, she managed to ask, "How... Long?" 

Another solemn look from him was all she needed to know. "48 hours is the earliest it could begin wearing off. However..." He paused to look her in the eye. "The amount he gave you was almost double what he needed. It could take up to a week to wear off." 

"But... It... Hurts..." she moaned out, her bruised and battered body trying to pull in on itself. 

"I... I know," he said gravely. Flicking his wand, an aid kit appeared next to the bed. "I'm going to have to do a muggle patch job on your injuries until we can heal them with magic. After, I'll have Winky come and assist you with dressing." 

xxxxx 

Once Severus finished bandaging up her up, he had Winky pop in and dress her while he waited outside. Once the elf was done, Severus returned to the bedroom and pulled a chair up beside the bed. Clasping his hands together, he looked at the floor and began. 

"He used the Cruciatus on you." It was a statement rather than an inquiry. When she gave him a questioning look, he continued. "The spasms you're enduring are trademark. They'll go away within a few hours. Your ankle shouldn't be moved until the potion wears off and I can heal it, same for your wrist, which is also broken. I'm... I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do to help you sleep. The potion will keep you awake for the full time that you are under its influence. I fear you may begin suffering delusions, which is why we can only hope it doesn't take a full week to wear off." 

"Del... usions?" she asked wearily. 

"Yes. Lack of sleep is known to have profound effects on the human psyche. The most I can do is monitor you closely and wait it out. Did he tell you anything about what he was doing?" 

Just the thought of it choked Hermione up, but she had to tell him anyway. "He... He said he needed me... He needed me... And the Incubus... He said he wants... A Cambion child." 

Though Hermione knew very little about Cambions, it was obvious from Severus' expression that it wasn't good at all. 

After several moments of silence passed by, Severus finally cleared his throat, looking rather pale. 

"What happened? How did he get you?" 

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but seized up as more spasms coursed their way through her. She cried out, curling in on her form the best she could. Before she knew it, Severus was in the bed with her, pulling her into him and holding her steady as she endured the pain. She sobbed out loud, the constrictions straining her injuries further. Severus held her tightly, trying to keep her from hurting herself further. 

The next week was going to be stressful for him, keeping his wife in check while trying to find out what in the hell Lucius was trying to pull. 


	21. Continuing!

Just informing everyone that the reconstruction is finished and I will begin reposting soon!


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